Faux Smiles
by Virgins-and-Surgeons
Summary: “It’s like Romeo and Juliet, if Romeo was a controlling, manipulative jerk with a God complex and Juliet was a bitter, suicidal, self-hating alcoholic.” All of her misfortune, it all happened after she met him. Aizen/OC
1. It's A Beautiful Morning

**((Yup, another story. I ish very very bored on spring break. I had the random urge to write another OC story, this time with Aizen. Ichimin is going to be the most malicious character I've written yet, I feel, and that's awesome. Reviewers are amazing and I love them, and Anonymous is cool too, because I don't quite feel ready to diss Anonymous and be burned at the stake. Not yet.))**

___

It was a lazy day in Seireitei. Not much happened in Eighth Division, and Ichimin Kumorigachi was bored out of her mind. Shoulder length dirty-blond hair hung around her shoulders, green-gray eyes running over the office once again. Fifth seat; not as illustrious a position as she would have imagined. Little office, meager pay raise and not nearly enough of anything to be putting up with Kyoraku's happy grab-grab mood when he got drunk. Good thing Nanao was always around to rein him in/beat him with her heavy-ass book when he got that way, or a certain Captain would have most likely gotten a couple concussions here and there.

"Ugh, I'm bored. Too bored. Death imminent." She groaned, taking the chance of Nanao seeing her being lazy and laying her head down on her forearms. No missions lately, none of any interest. It had been forever since she'd fought a hollow, and from the looks of everything, it'd be a good long while until she did get the chance. Nothing ever happened around there, it felt like. It made her wonder if the living ever had to do anything so boring as her day-to-day schedule.

The door snapped open and a sharp voice caught her by pseudo-surprise.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi, at least attempt to look like you are doing something." Ise Nanao's voice rang out, and Ichimin raised her head a bit to glance at Nanao.

"Hai, Lieutenant Captain Nanao."

She sat up, finding that the first piece of paper from her stack was stuck to her forehead. She saw Nanao smile a bit, before straightening her face and walking out of the office with her black file book to her chest as usual. Ichimin pulled the paper off of her forehead, looking down to the stack of paperwork to be done. Sometimes it felt like she and Nanao were the only ones that ever did any of it. The Captain of Eight Division, Kyoraku, sure as hell didn't do very much. She glanced to her 'done' stack, and decided that she could take her lunch break with everyone else today.

"Well, what division am I gonna eat at today?" Ichi queried nobody in particular, and randomly picked upon where to eat. She wasn't the most exciting of people, more laid-back than anything, but she had a couple good friends she could eat with. A couple people in Eleventh, Nemu probably needed somebody to hang out with but then again, her father sure did creep Ichi right the fuck out. And Mayuri Kurotsuchi always seemed to hover over them whenever he saw them talking. Probably thought that the lazy Ichimin was trying to get Nemu to slack off with her. Momo might need company, she was nice enough to be able to tolerate the unwillingness Ichimin had for any sort of wild behaviour and Aizen was a nice enough Captain. Sometimes, Ichi herself wished she could be in Fifth and not get drunk groped every time Shunsui Kyoraku went on a bender.

She could always have tea with Ukitake. He was a pleasant guy; sickly yes, but she could talk to him about anything. He just gave off that…fatherly vibe. Unfortunately, to him she gave off that 'Shower me with Hitsugaya's unwanted candy' vibe. Ichimin always gave it to Yachiru, who was happy enough to take it. Much to Madarame and Ayasegawa's displeasure. Zaraki was fun enough to hang around, but he just moved around too much in all that fighting kind of stuff. But when he wasn't kicking somebody's ass, he ignored paperwork as much as she did and they got along fine.

"Huh…Fifth sounds nice. They got good food."

Making sure she had her Zanpakuto, sitting faithfully at her hip as always, Ichimin poked her head out the door to look for any sign of Nanao. Finding neither hairclip nor big ass black binder of her, the blondish woman slipped out the door and closed it behind her to speed walk towards the front. She thought she heard someone calling her rank, but it didn't matter as she basically ran out the door and into Seireitei. Fifth Seat Kumorigachi was on her lunch break, and she knew that staying to eat in Eighth would result in paperwork when she ate and that was never any fun.

It was in a lazy swagger she traced her way three divisions down to Fifth, completely ignoring Captain Kuchiki as he passed her. The two of them didn't get along well, since Byakuya Kuchiki demanded hard work and a measure of self-pride. Ichimin didn't exactly have self-pride, and hard work was a definite no. She didn't know how Renji put up with that guy, and nearly asked him when they passed and exchanged hellos.

'_Eh, probably not too smart an idea considering that stick-up-the-ass Kuchiki is right behind me. I'll just say hello to his lapdog.'_

"'Sup Renji." Her thoughts didn't project themselves at all onto the nonchalant greeting, and Abarai waved back a bit.

"Paperwork delivery." The conversation lasted around the three seconds it took for them to pass each other, and then Ichimin was back to dragging her feet to Fifth division to eat with Momo.

'_Probably going to listen to her rant and rave about __**CAPTAIN AIZEN YEEEEE**__.'_

More thoughts spread beneath a nonchalant mask as she turned into the Division of choice and poked around a bit. Meaningless subordinates waved hello and the like; she mumbled out hellos and waved now and then, mostly ignoring them. A bun; Momo drifted around the corner and spotted Ichimin, immediately smiling and waving to her.

"Hello Ichi!" She called, and Ichimin's eye twitched unnoticeably. Lord did she hate being called Ichi. She didn't show it though as she switched to happy girl mode, smiling and walking over to the Lieutenant.

"Hey Momo. I was wondering if ya wanted to have lunch. I can't have it back in Eighth because Lieutenant Nanao'll have my head on a stack of paperwork."

Momo got that 'I'm going to lecture you' look on her face and I mentally groaned.

"Now Ichi (fuck), you have to do your paperwork. It causes a lot of trouble for the Captain of a division if they don't have their subordinates do their paperwork!" She lectured in that 'Responsible Adult talking to a child' tone.

'_Lord do I hate when she lectures me. But I'll never tell her how much I hate when she does it, I'll never tell her how much her smile pisses me off. I'll never tell her, because we're __**friends**__.'_

Ichimin kept the thoughts to herself as she half-listened to Momo Hinamori with a smile, and when Momo finished she nodded.

"You're so right Momo, I just kind of hate doing it, you know? Not to mention Lieutenant Nanao is a slave driver." Keep that false smile up Ichimin; keep it up so Momo can think she's so smart. Momo was indeed pleased with herself, and took Ichimin's hand suddenly and began to drag the other woman with her to the lunchroom.

"I think it'll be alright if I take a lunch break right now, but I don't want to keep Captain Aizen waiting on his paperwork."

**Aizen Counter: 1**

"Thanks Momo, you didn't have to eat with me if you didn't want to keep him waiting, you know?" Ichimin suggested, and Momo sat down with her in the lunchroom smiling.

"It's alright, I haven't eaten with you in a while, you know?" Momo and Ichimin realized they had nothing to eat, and laughed a bit before going to get something. Fifth Division did have some good food, and Ichimin was able to grab some delicious, delicious watermelon. That, and onigiri but mostly that masterful watermelon.

The two women sat down and began to eat, chatting about this and that.

"And then, I did finish the paperwork for Captain Aizen and when I said I was sorry for it being late, he just laughed."

**Aizen Counter: 2**

Momo droned on about 'funny' stories, all of them involving either Aizen or Hitsugaya. Ichimin didn't give a damn about Momo's stories at all, but kept a smile on her face and laughed here and there. A shadow hovered over them, and Ichimin immediately knew by the look on Momo's face whom it was.

"C-Captain Aizen!!"

**Aizen Counter: 3**

Ichimin looked over her shoulder at the genial man, smiling down on them kindly.

"Hello Momo, Ichimin. How are you two today?"

'_Great, I get to listen to Momo short-circuit over the gayest Captain ever, a human Barney with a 70's porno librarian haircut.'_

"Hello Captain Aizen, and very well thank you." Ichimin replied, smiling to him. He moved around the table and sat next to a now-obsessing Momo, very politely asking for an onigiri from Ichimin. She relented, keeping a completely serene smile on her face as she did. Might be lazy, but she could act as sweet as possible when she needed to.

"C-Captain Aizen, is there anything at all you need? Do you need that paperwork? I knew I should have brought it-"

**Aizen Counter: 4**

Momo fizzled, before Aizen chuckled a bit and put a large hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down Momo; I merely came to say hello to Ichimin again before she was dragged off to do paperwork for Lieutenant Nanao."

Momo calmed down after a bit more reassurance, and started eating again as Aizen turned to address Ichimin.

"And how have your duties come along, Ichimin?" Aizen queried curiously, and Ichimin quietly appreciated the fact that he didn't call her Ichi.

"Very well, actually. The occasional drunk groping by Captain Kyoraku, tons of paperwork and even the odd swatting with Lieutenant Nanao's binder. Nothing new." Her words were taken as a joke, and Momo laughed a bit around her food. Aizen chuckled, and Ichimin didn't catch the stare she was getting from Aizen.

"I see. Well, if you ever need to get away during a bender, our Division is always open to you." Aizen spoke kindly, and Ichimin laughed a bit.

"Thank you, but I'd rather just stick around in my room. He usually just parades around the Division itself, grabbing at anyone in the hallway. Lieutenant Nanao usually follows him on his path of destruction anyway, keeping him in rein."

It was true; Nanao stalked drunk Kyoraku to make sure he didn't do anything entirely too stupid. Aizen merely left the offer open and requested a piece of the-

'You bastard, wanting my watermelon. They'll never find hair nor hide of your gay ass.'

"Of course, Captain Aizen." Ichimin smiled, holding out the last piece for him. He took it with a smile, and Ichimin took the trash and threw it away, quietly seething with a smile on her face.

"Well, I have to be getting back to work. It was lovely seeing you again, Fifth Seat Kumorigachi." Aizen stated with a smile, and Ichimin did the same. Momo was up on her feet in a moment, following after Aizen.

"Captain Aizen, I'll get started on that paperwork in a minute! Ichi (dammit), you should go back and do yours too! In fact, why don't you just bring it over to my division and we can do ours together and share stories?"

**Aizen Counter: 5**

Momo called to Aizen, before pseudo-scolding Ichimin. Ichimin merely smiled, giving a slight nod as Hinamori ran off after her Captain.

'_Yeah, I'll do that just as soon as you stop masturbating to a picture of Aizen every night.'_

"Of course, Momo, that sounds like fun." Ichimin stated, kindness in her voice as she turned and began to walk down the hallways, leaving the division and trying to find a place to go that wasn't Eighth Division.

'_Where to go now that isn't full of retards that I want to kill. That pretty much marks out all of Soul Society, so where can I go that has people I only slightly want to stab in the eye with a potato peeler?'_

There was an hour or two before nightfall, and what sounded good was a visit to the smiling bastard of Seireitei. Ichimin actually liked Gin Ichimaru; he was a malicious bastard that loved to torment others, and he was fun to hang around. He did everything Ichimin wouldn't let herself do, even if she wanted to tell Momo right to her face that she was a hopeless stalker and that Ichimin loathed her very soul an wanted to gore her on her own Zanpakuto.

Her feet began to trace the path to Third Division, a shunpo here and there to speed it up so that she didn't arrive at night and be forced to turn right around. It was dusk when she arrived, and walked in nonchalantly. More salutes; more people she didn't give a fuck about. The person she _was_ looking for was apparently either hiding or gone. Damn.

"Hey, have you seen Captain Ichimaru?" She asked a random subordinate. He shrugged a bit, pretty much blowing her off. Third Division really wasn't all that cheery a division, considering how terrified nearly everyone in it was of Gin Ichimaru. She would have felt bad for Kira, if she hadn't have thought he was an emo little bitch.

'_I may have graduated with Izuru, Momo and Renji but damn do I still hate them.'_

A quick memory of being the fourth member in the three-squad team when the Huge Hollows came to kick their asses, and seeing Aizen and Ichimaru kick the asses of all the hollows. It had been a pretty good night that night, and even the hollows hadn't ruined it for her.

"Oh, Kumorigachi-san." A familiar voice rang out behind her, and she turned to see Izuru Kira, looking as emo as always. A smile affixed on her face, she wave.

"Hey Izuru. You seen Captain Ichimaru?" Ichimin queried, and he thought back for a moment.

"…There is a Captain's meeting going on right now. He won't be back for two or so hours." Ichimin was slightly depressed, but shrugged it off.

"Oh, that's fine. I was just a bit bored, and I don't quite feel like going back to die in paperwork yet." She sighed, before waving and starting to walk off.

"Goodbye Kumorigachi-san, and are you coming out to drink with Renji, Madarame-san and Ayasegawa-san tomorrow night?" He queried, and Ichimin froze. Kira didn't know how she got when she was drunk. Too, too bad.

"Uh…yeah, that sounds great. Sure I'm invited though?" She queried, really wondering if he had an idea of how much everyone else hated to drink with her. He shrugged.

"I'm inviting you. We're meeting outside of Third Division tomorrow night, so be there if you want."

"Sure, that sounds great." The two of them parted ways with a quick wave, and Ichimin sighed as she stepped out of the division and began to shunpo back to her own.

"I'm gonna feel kind of bad for Izuru the morning after tomorrow." She sighed to herself, slipping into her division and dodging Drunk Kyoraku to slide into her room and lock it behind her. The paperwork on her desk was at least three times as high as it was when she left two hours ago, and Ichimin silently cursed Nanao for being so vindictive. Walking by the paperwork as if it didn't exist, instead grabbing an old bottle of sake and sitting on her futon. Pulling off the top with her teeth and spitting it out across the floor, she took a deep swig and sighed, laying on her back.

"Day after day, it's always the same. Get up, do paperwork, sit around and talk to people I hate, make sure to smile as fakely as possible, come back, get drunk and pass out. Maybe even piss myself, if I get nice and drunk enough."

Another drink, the slight buzz starting to build up again.

"…I get out of Rukongai to be one of the 'elite', a shinigami. And what do I get in the end? A life exactly like my old one, except with more food and more people I want to kill."

She spent the hours drinking, draining the first bottle and grabbing another one and another, a stockpile she had for nights like these. The ones where she hadn't been able to get trashed at some point before in time, to find that very small window where she could be blitzed enough to forget that she hated everyone and be genuinely nice and happy, but not too much as to be highly aware of how much she hated everyone and every thing.

Thankfully, tonight was a good night and she blacked out pretty quickly, amid a sea of empty sake bottles and bad memories.

**((Well, there was chapter one. Tell me if you guys like the Aizen Counter or not, because I had always thought they should put one of those in the corner of the screen/panel the entire S.S. Arc. Thanks again!!))**


	2. Let's Get Wasted

After waking up in a sea of empty bottles and with a hangover that made her want to just die, Ichimin slowly got around to shoving the bottles in the corner of the office and throwing up a couple times. Hangovers were nothing new; just something else to deal with in her day-to-day life.

"Fuck." She muttered, fixing her hair and brushing her teeth to get the acrid burning taste of vomit out of her mouth. Around the middle of her hangover grooming routine, Nanao slammed in the door and just about killed her again.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi, why is your paperwork not-" She was cut off with a bloodshot glare from Hell, and a growling from Ichimin herself.  
"Lieutenant…shut…up…"

The growling statement was superceding of her rank, but with a hangover, nothing mattered except the sweet silence that Ichimin desired so fervently. Nanao blinked, and then recognized the mood and saw the bottles in the corner.

"…You've been drinking again." Ise Nanao noted, her sharp stare softening somewhat. Ichimin sighed, dropping her toothbrush and nodding very, very gently. She walked slowly back from the bathroom in the corner, passing Nanao as she did and giving the older woman a good whiff of how drunk she really was last night.

"Yeah." Ichimin practically fell onto her unmade futon, a hand over her eyes. Nanao observed her quietly.

"That's too much in one night, Ichimin. How many bottles?"

'_None of your fucking business.'_

"…Fifteen."

Ichimin didn't even look; she didn't have to. She already knew how many bottles were there.

"…That's way too much. You'll get alcohol poisoning if you keep that up."

_'You just figured that out? I'm not fucking retarded; I know how close I get. Call it an aspiration.'_

Ichimin didn't let her thoughts be vocalized.

"I know. You know I know, and you know I don't care."

Nanao was someone Ichimin could talk to if she needed to; someone she confided in on occasion. It wasn't too often, but sometimes they would have their moments. Ichimin stared hard at the wall, trying not to think.

"Well, you know that there are people here that do care." Nanao stated, beginning to leave Ichimin to her silence. She glanced back at the Fifth seat, quietly.

"There are people who seem to care about you more than you care about yourself, Ichimin."

And with that, the door closed and Ichimin quietly thought on Nanao's words. Reaching down, she fished out a half-full bottle of sake and took a swig, not caring if it was still good or not.

"…You've got no idea, Nanao."

Ichimin Kumorigachi, the depressed and angrier version of Rangiku Matsumoto. A token drunk that hated every person she ever met, and nobody even knew. What a miserable existence.

It was around eight when Ichimin stepped out of Eighth division and began to make her way to Third division for some hard drinking. By that time, her hangover had subsided somewhat and now was a dull thudding headache that she could ignore. A couple shunpo and she was swaggering up towards what she could tell was the blond head of Izuru Kira, along with a few other familiar people. Kira stood beside Abarai and Shuuhei, and Ichimin could see Matsumoto among them. Seems like they would be waiting for Ayasegawa and Madarame, if they didn't chase her away before then.

"Oh, there's the person I invited." Izuru stated, seeing Ichimin waving at them. Renji and Hisagi turned to see her and immediately groaned, slapping their foreheads.

"You invited HER? Fuck, there goes the night." Ichimin could catch Renji groaning, tossing a creepy smiling glare at him as she stopped beside Kira.

"Oh, there a problem?" She queried, in a tone much too kind to match her eyes. Renji sighed.

"You know how you get when you get smashed." It was true; she had that little habit when she got too drunk that everyone seemed to loathe. Ichimin loved knowing that she'd ruined his night and smiled, shrugging.

"Oh well; not my problem, Lieutenant Captain Abarai."

Now ignoring him, which he seemed pretty pissed about, she noted the two approaching figures of Ikkaku and Yumichika, and a couple of obscenities when they recognized her.

"Fuck, you." Ikkaku growled, and Ichimin saw a confused Kira trying to figure it out.

"You'll see when I get wasted. Now, where are we drinking again?"

Matsumoto picked this time to pipe in, smiling.

"A cheap little joint in Rukongai. And it's in the eighty-eighth district, so it's going to be a fun place to wander around wasted." She smiled, and Ichimin smiled as well. Of all the people in Soul Society, Matsumoto and Gin were her few pseudo-friends. Not like they were BEST FRIENDS FOREVAR or anything; they were two people she could tolerate. Gin because he was a malicious and creepy dick that delighted in terrorizing his and other's divisions, and Matsumoto because she could drink, and drink a lot. Right about then, the small shinigami group began heading towards the gate, shunpoing to get there quicker. Ichimin noted that the mood had soured since she'd arrived, and that gave her a bit of satisfaction. She'd ruined somebody's night.

The wall loomed overhead as they arrived, and Abarai had the gate opened.

"Shinigami leaving Seireitei for Rukongai sector eighty-eight."

The gate opened, and Ichimin and Matsumoto waved to Jidanbo as they passed. Left the white wall and the arduous methods and order of the shinigami society behind, going into a near-lawless section of the drifting city.

She loved Rukongai. She hated Rukongai.

She loved Rukon for its sense of freedom; not bound by the shinigami's rules, anyone did what they wished. You could do whatever you pleased, as long as you didn't get caught. And as she stepped by tons of cheap bars, Ichimin Kumorigachi remembered why she loved Rukon.

She hated Rukon for it's viciousness; if you didn't get caught, you could do anything. That wasn't always a good thing, and the shinigami didn't try and govern Rukongai at all; it was merely the place where the hungerless rotted and the hungry strove for being shinigami and losing their hunger. And as she stepped past a group of kids, some four or five, huddled around a small bit of obviously rotted food, she remembered why she hated Rukon.

Everyone else walked right past the starving kids, because it wasn't them. Not anymore, and Kira never had that sort of experience. They were shinigami now; they weren't starving kids. And the money that they had with them was going to go for cheap booze so that somebody there might get fucked tonight and everybody there would forget their miseries for a bit of time.

Ichimin couldn't bring herself to ignore them though. The mere sight tore at what heart she had, and she hated it for being one of the few things that could make her unable to walk away. A memory of a girl with short ragged blondish hair, trying to eat grass and hunting for worms in the dirt. Anything to eat, anything at all in her stomach.

The three kids sat around the rotted food that appeared to be a potato, all fighting over it.

"I found it!"

"It's mine, I'm the oldest!"

"Don't make me kick your ass!"

The three bickered, the young girl that apparently found it being shoved aside by the two elder boys. A figure loomed over them, and all three looked up to see a blondish woman with slightly bloodshot eyes staring down on them with an unfamiliar expression. The three immediately recognized the shihakusho, the shinigami uniform she was wearing, and her Zanpakuto.

"Shinigami!!" one of the boys hissed, having short black hair. The girl with longish black hair looked on in terror, scooting back as the eldest boy, having shoulder-length brunette hair, stood and confronted her.

"Hey, get the fuck away shinigami! What the hell do you want, anyway?" His eyes held a light that Ichimin absolutely loathed seeing, a hatred glowing white-hot. Hatred for the shinigami, the ones that abused their power and bullied the residents of Rukon. The second boy didn't speak, but Ichimin saw that he was preparing to run with the food while the other two were distracted. He was an underhanded, deceptive boy, one that took advantage of the situation in order to survive. Anything at all to survive here.

'_Brings me back to when I was eating worms in the dirt.'_

"Answer me, shinigami scum!!" The brunette boy spat, and regained her attention. Ichimin reached back, and she saw him flinch in preparation of being hit. Instead, a bag of money was dropped in front of the three and all three of them blinked in surprise.

"Its a shinigami's monthly salary; enough to buy you food and water for a couple months if you go cheap." Was all Ichimin bothered to say, and she began to turn around and leave absolutely broke and go sit at the bar to be sober all night.

"Hey!!" A young voice snapped, and Ichimin glanced over her shoulder at the boy holding the money tight to his chest. He stared hard at her, attempting to see if it was a setup to get more street urchins killed so they wouldn't cause trouble anymore. He didn't see anything at all like that in her eyes, but saw something else entirely.

"…Why? Y…you're a shinigami…isn't this…what you became a shinigami for?"

He motioned to the money in his arms, a small bag filled with Ichimin's monthly pay. Ichimin herself thought a moment, a long hard moment before answering softly.

"…It was. And I regret it every day of my life."

The boy looked in her eyes and he saw pain. He saw an agonized soul, a woman who was everything she hated. So that was the life of a shinigami; grow older and then learn to forget that you hated yourself. What a miserable existence this woman had; unable to forget what she was and what she hated. He was about to speak and she was already turned away, walking penniless down the dirt road towards the cheap bar. She heard them moving, getting ready to hide their stash.

"…Thank you, shinigami."

The brunette boy called, and Ichimin glanced back.

"Ichimin Kumorigachi, Fifth seat of Eighth division. Remember the name."

He could tell that she had been one of them, knew how it was in eighty-nine. And if she hated shinigami as much as they did, then becoming one must have been eternal torment. The boy glanced back to his two companions, who immediately took the money and ran back to their temporary hideout, the brunette boy quietly thanking the lone shinigami that stopped when the others didn't.

Ichimin herself walked into the bar, a cheap place by the looks of it. The group was already roaring drunk, sans Kira who seemed to be attempting to stay the slightly sober one and Yumichika, who Ichimin could never recall ever seeing real wasted. Renji and Ikkaku were drunk-arguing, the loud shit where they bang on tables and scream about who's more powerful, then pull their Zanpakuto before they get smacked in the head and quiet down for around ten seconds. Seeing Ichimin finally walk in non-drunk and drop down at the table, Matsumoto blinked and gave her a too-hard shove to get her attention.

"HAY!! Where were ya?? We's already good 'n goin'!!" She grinned, obviously pretty wasted. Ichimin sighed, ignoring the shove.

"Got pick-pocketed and lost the thief. Don't have any money; I'm staying sober tonight it looks like."

Renji and Ikkaku cheered a little too loudly at this statement not to go unnoticed, and Ichimin ignored them to stare off at the wall. A bottle was shoved into her hands immediately, and she blinked to look up at Matsumoto.

"Aw, c'mon Ichi!! (Goddammit) Ya gotta be a li'l more loose! Have shome wiff us!!"

She was slurring her words, and Ichimin shrugged a bit before tipping the bottle up and taking a huge swig of it. It burned her throat; that was good. Meant that it was the cheap shit, the kind that got you wasted fast and annihilated your liver. A couple more swigs and she was loose again, not enough to dull her senses but enough to calm her down after the little stroll down memory lane outside. The bottle ran empty too soon for her liking, and she dropped it at the side of the table lazily. Another round; she always got bottles of the straight non-flavored stuff. Couldn't drink that cherry shit Matsumoto liked. Her memories dulled again; to the point where her childhood didn't exist, the time before being in this bar stopped existing altogether. She didn't remember eating worms and beetles to stay alive, didn't remember running from murderers and thieves and men that wanted to take something other than her life from her. Ichimin Kumorigachi couldn't even remember the self-loathing feeling she'd worn so heavily before. All she felt was the buzz of the alcohol, that odd elevating of her mood and the urge to join in on Ikkaku and Renji's fight.

Her fifth empty bottle clanked to the ground as she started laughing with Matsumoto, both of them hanging on each other and laughing like sisters sharing an inside joke. A grin; Matsumoto shoved another bottle into Ichimin's hands, laughing loudly.

"'Ave summor a' dis, Ichi!"

Ichimin was much too trashed to protest to being called Ichi, and took a huge swig of it before laughing too loud to be sober.

"Ren, Ika, ya's jus' loud basterdsh." She slurred, swinging her bottle in their direction wildly. Yumichika barely dodged being smashed across the face with it, sighing. Kira blinked as Ichimin then began to drink with Ikkaku and Renji, alternating between drinking and arguing and then more drinking.

"What's with her? She looks like a normal drinker." He queried Yumichika, the only other slightly sober one there. Yumichika sighed.

"She doesn't do well when she drinks heavily. She gets from a normal mood to an excessively good mood, then as she gets drunker she goes to-"

"YER' FUCKIN' KUCHIKI, AREN'T YA?!!" Ichimin roared in a drunken rage, and Renji began arguing with her even more loudly than before and denying everything Ichimin was accusing him of. Kira blinked.

"She gets in an excessively foul mood and says the cruelest things she can think of in her drunken haze."

Izuru watched Matsumoto scoot back a little from Ichimin, knowing from experience what a bipolar drunk she was. Ichimin herself was quarreling with Ikkaku, both shouting out the evilest things either of them could think of being drunk and all.

"Ya're a fukkin' pshycopaff, an I bet yer fuckin Yumm…Yum…Fedders over dere." Ichimin slurred out, gesturing wildly to Yumichika who merely sighed again. Ikkaku blinked before roaring back at her.

"Am not, bitsh!! Leasht I have somebuddy that caresh…if I get killed er not!!" He spat, and both being in their impaired states, glanced down to their Zanpakuto. Could be settled in a drunken fight with swords, which equaled the safety of juggling flaming razorblade piranha with chainsaw teeth. Yumichika and Izuru immediately stepped in, Yumichika taking Ikkaku and getting his attention back on drinking while Izuru gave a fuming Ichimin more sake to get wasted off of.

And get wasted she did.

So wasted, in fact, that when the group finally decided to leave the bar and went back into Seireitei, Ichimin was unable to shunpo and fucked it up horribly as she attempted to make it back to Eighth, fucking up and crashing into a random section of Seireitei that she was too drunk to recognize. She didn't remember where this was, too wasted to remember even her own name. And right now, movement seemed like the worst of ideas.

"Hey, who's that?" She heard a male voice query, and another one made a dismissive noise.

"Probably some drunk wasted off his ass." A second male voice stated, and Ichimin was on her side trying to regain a sense of the world. The footfalls stopped next to her and she could smell alcohol on them; they absolutely reeked of it. Then again, that could have been her. A hand grabbed her shihakusho and rolled her over onto her back. She opened her eyes a small bit to look at the two; they were shinigami. Looked pretty rough for shinigami too; most likely Eleventh divisioners. One looked at the other, motioning to Ichimin.

"Hey…think that's the Eighth's fifth seat. Ichirin or something." He growled, and the other looked over what they thought to be an unconscious drunk woman that wouldn't remember a thing of anything.

"Hm…she ain't bad. Ain't bad at all." He stated, and the other one smirked.

"Nah, she ain't. We don't got nothing else do…" He trailed off, reaching down and grabbing her chin roughly. Right about then, her eyes flew open and Ichimin kicked a foot up into his groin, causing him to let go while she staggered to her feet. He collapsed, the other man glaring hard onto Ichimin.

"You fucking whore. You're gonna wish you'd stayed unconscious."

Ichimin watched him be there for a second, and gone the next.

_'__Shunpo!'_

It was a split second before she attempted to stagger forward and away, not risking a shunpo of her own. Ichimin nearly fell over, swinging around wildly to try and keep her sight on him. As she turned, the second guy wrapped his hand up in her hair all the way to the base of her skull, attempting to hold her there. He growled in her face, his breath rank with alcohol.

"You think you're real smart, huh bitch? You wait; we're having some fun tonight."

The metallic noise; a Zanpakuto flew and she was free of his grip, leaving him holding a clump of her hair while she jumped back, the blade too heavy in her hands. She was too drunk to walk, much less fight off an attempt at a rape.

"Yeh? Lessee what kinda fun we're havin then, bitshes." Her words slurred terribly; her impairment was obvious. She staggered backwards at one of their lunges at her, evading very sloppily on pure instinct. Even as wasted as she was, instinct was allowing her to dodge the swings with the occasional shallow slice across her arms or hands.

"Get over here, bitch!" One yelled, driving a drawn Zanpakuto towards her in an attempt at disarming or incapacitating her. She was about to dodge when a hot feeling rose up in her stomach; the feeling of bile in the back of her throat threw Ichimin off, and the blade bit into her shoulder painfully. The woman collapsed, falling to her hands and knees and vomiting up the cause of all of today's problems. The sword in her shoulder ripped free before the flat side was slamming into the side of her face, sending her toppling to the ground. Her Zanpakuto was dragged from her grip, leaving her dazed and disarmed.

One of the men smirked, grabbing her again by the hair and face-to-face with him. He smirked in her face, noting the mark from the blade's flat side on her cheek.

"Caused us some trouble, fifth seat. Good thing you're drunk as shit though. You and us, we're just going to have a whole lot of fun tonight. Doesn't that sound fun?"

He was answered with being spat on, Ichimin glaring hard at him.

"Fuck off…I ain't playin' with limp dicks like you."

She was replied to with a hard slap against her right cheek, sending her careening into the wall and to the ground.

"You just can't shut the fuck up, can you?" The second man sneered, and she felt the blade being pushed slowly into and through her shoulder. A pained yelp; at that, he ripped out the blade and she caught a hard kick to the ribs. Rolling pitifully, she laid very still in a crumpled heap. Her breaths came in shuddering gasps, slow and shallow. As the footsteps came closer, she felt a foot being pressed right in between her shoulder blades, pinning her down and crushing her lungs against what felt like daggers in her chest. Maybe she broke a rib; felt like it.

"Now, let's get this bitch fucked and get out of here." One of them stated, rolling her over with his foot before another began to grab at her shihakusho. Pitiful attempts to fight them off were met with the occasional slap or kick, and she was about to lose the fight.

A reiatsu pulse stopped them in their tracks, and all three looked back to the source. The two men paled, stupidly forgetting to pull their hands from her shihakusho and at least attempt to look harmless. Ichimin moved slightly to the protest of her body to see who was apparently saving her.

"C…Captain Aizen…"

One of the men breathed, and Aizen held a very displeased look on his face as both men snapped from Ichimin and attempted to look like they weren't just about to do what they had been attempting.

"Captain, you see, we were-" One began, before Aizen leaned down and retrieved Ichimin's Zanpakuto, bloody from where it had been used to impale her shoulder.

"Attempting to rape an officer of another division. This is a very serious offense, and be assured that it will not go unpunished."

His manner was severe, and the two men immediately shunpoed away in an attempt to move before he could remember their faces. Aizen himself looked down to Ichimin, worry in his eyes. Ichimin attempted to talk, but her vision was going tunnel once again and things were getting dark. Perfect time to black out.

"…Sorry." She muttered, closing her eyes and blacking out.

**((AN: Well, that was de supah chapter to make up for not updating like normal. School's eating up my time, what with the papers I have to write and everything. Hooray, Aizen saves people from rape. 'Till later on, anyway. And only Momo gets the Aizen Counter, because I'm curious as to how many times I'll have her say it. Plus, I get bored.))**


	3. The Hangover, The Break's Over

Darkness, and the smell of antiseptic.

A groan; a very, very, very hungover Fifth seat of Eighth division opened her eyes too quickly and immediately hissed loudly; the agony of a thousand burning black suns from the bowels of Hell in her brain. She was going to move her hands up to cover her eyes, but found that one arm was stiffer than the other. Now opening her eyes very slowly, Ichimin saw that the smell of medicine and death wasn't coincidental.

"Fourth Division…" She rasped, finding her throat painfully dry. She attempted to sit up and the world went off kilter, her stomach traveling with it. She dropped back to the bed, reaching over instinctually to the side of the bed and swiping around for a trashcan. She found one, thank whatever God existed that would create sake and Rukongai Eighty-Ninth Sector, and proceeded to vomit up fiery hell until she couldn't breathe. Alcohol was always a thousand times worse coming up than going down. When she had nothing left to vomit and the dry heaves started, she dropped the trashcan and rolled back over to curl up in a ball with her head between her knees. She gritted her teeth, hissing as another wave of nausea hit her, and hit her hard.

'_Dear gods, what the fucking hell did I do last night. And what's left of my liver now.'_

It was fuzzy, but she remembered the kids, and drinking a LOT, and then fighting somebody. And now she was here. In Fourth Division. She hated Fourth Division.

"Oh! You're awake!" A soft young…ish…voice spoke in surprise, and a door closed. She couldn't remember hearing a door open, but her gastronomical torment might have cut out that particular noise. Soft footsteps approached her bedside, and she uncurled a bit to look up at the person near her.

He was a young man, with doe eyes and what seemed to be a naturally morose expression. He looked down on her with somewhat worry, and she blinked up at him.

"A-are you alright, miss?" He queried with worry, and she blinked up at him. As if he were stupid.

'_Fuck no you dipshit.'_

"Do…I…look…alright?" She growled softly, and he blinked before stepping back.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I just…" He trailed off, looking very self-conscious. She blinked, and then sighed.

"What…are you here for." Ichimin said softly, asking him so he could hurry up and go away. He blinked, before remembering what he was there for.

"O-oh yes! I need to check your wounds, to see if they're healing well." He took a step near her, and she blinked while sitting up slowly again.

"Wounds…? I don't have any…" She trailed off, moving to turn towards him and stopping when she felt a searing pain in her shoulder. A hiss; she reached up to put pressure on it and the young man's hands snatched hers away.

"You'll damage it! Please, just…I need to look." He trailed off, now turning crimson at the realization of what that would entail.

"…You doing okay there." Ichimin queried, as he started blushing and let go of her very quickly.

"I-I-I-I th-think m-maybe a f-f-female officer sh-should do th-this. F-For y-your sake!" The young man stuttered, before shouting the last part to try and convince her that it wasn't because he was too embarrassed to do it. She wasn't convinced of anything, because at that shout her head went back under the pillow on her bed, the noise like nails on a blackboard to her hungover state. He caught the hottest of glares while he was stuttering out apologies, heading towards the door.

"I'm sorry! I'll just…go…now…" He went for the door, and was stopped at a low female voice behind him.

"Your name…?"

Ichimin didn't particularly care what his name really was, but it was just something that had been drilled into her. You ask names, just to pretend that you gave a shit who they were. The young man blinked at her as he glanced back, somewhat confused looking.

_'Oh great; he's a **total** dipshit.'_

"U..um...Hanatarou. Hanatarou Yamada." His voice was quiet, and Ichimin was thankful for that. Sweet, sweet quiet. She forced a smile, and it must have turned out mangled from the look on his face as she did.

"Thank you...Yamada-san."

He jumped, again, but nodded quickly and left. Presumably for a female officer that wouldn't go through a meltdown at the idea of accidentally seeing her tits. He was a nice kid; total dipshit, looked kinda sickly, but he seemed genial enough. A female officer showed up and checked the wounds; stab wound, nothing major. She'd gotten worse from hollows. When they still sent her on missions to fight them, at least.

"You're very lucky Captain Aizen intervened; if he hadn't, then I had heard that you very well might have been...well, violated." The nurse hesitated on the word choice, and right after she attempted to sugarcoat it, Ichimin sighed and put in her own word.

"Just say rape. I don't care what word you use."

_'Fucking idiot.'_

The nurse blinked, but nodded. Ichimin didn't talk to her the rest of the time, now mulling over her thoughts. A quick question to herself; how much had she drank last night?

_'...Ugh, I can't see straight right now. So a helluva lot.'_

Why didn't anyone see her not make it back, or at least escort her back to the Eighth division?

_'...Assholes. This is why I hate everyone. And Kira was perfectly sober at the end; I fucking know it. Gods do I hate shinigami.'_

Ichimin's thoughts were cut off suddenly as she hissed between her teeth at the feeling of peroxide on the wound, but shut up and bore it. Nothing all too new; peroxide still hurt like a cheap whore. The bandages were wrapped again and she was instructed to lay down once more; she was excused from duty for today. Ichimin said, flat-out:

"Fuck that shit."

And with that, she was already on her feet and pulling on her shihakusho again. The nurse was helpless to stop her; she was a Fourth division member, after all. Ichimin was from an actual fighting division; there was no contest. Not with a lowly nurse, anyway.

"Zanpakuto...Zanpakuto...where did they hide my Zan-" She muttered, hunting around, before being cut off by a sigh from the doorway.

"You can't just say thank-you and lay down, can you?" The voice was familiar; turning her greenish eyes up, Ichimin stared up to Captain Aizen, smiling down on her from the doorway. She blinked, before bowing her head and apologizing.

"Forgive me, Captain Aizen. I merely cannot just lay around..._**here.**_" She put emphasis on the word 'here', and Aizen frowned a bit. He moved for the nurse to escape the room, to take on less dangerous tasks than attempt to keep a hungover Eighth divisioner in her hospital bed. Aizen sighed again, closing the door behind him quietly as she sat on the bed. Not laying down, but just sitting. Aizen noted how hungover she must be; she was very drunk the night before.

"...I never got to thank you, Captain Aizen." Ichimin said quietly, somewhat amused at the irony of her thanking somebody and actually meaning it. Aizen blinked, looking surprised, before smiling genially again and laying a hand on her shoulder.  
"Of course, Kumorigachi-san. Do you think that I'm the kind of person to watch as someone else does that?"

Ichimin looked down at her hands quietly, noting that her nails were getting long. Wouldn't be long until she broke them again sparring or something. Did it sound like that when she said it? Aizen was a good man; she should be more careful of her wording next time.  
"Of course not, Captain Aizen. I just thought-"  
"It's alright, Ichimin."  
He cut her off in mid-sentence, and she looked back up to see him smiling kindly. He laid a hand on hers, which Ichimin realized halted the rough picking at her nails she was doing.  
"We're friends, are we not?"  
It was an easy enough question, but something about the very nature of it was oddly chilling. His stare she wouldn't meet; the warm feeling was gone now, long gone. Replaced with what felt like an intensive staring directly into her soul.  
"O-of course, s-sir." The fifth seat stumbled, now thoroughly unnerved by the oddness of the scenario. But it was gone as fast as it came; she risked a glance and Aizen was the normal kind man. Must have been the hangover. Or paranoia.  
"That's good; I like talking with you, Ichimin." Aizen said easily, patting the female shinigami's hand again before removing his and moving to stand. Something about earlier, with the odd feeling of having someone stare into her very being was a warning, she could feel. But then again, it was easily dismissed and the entire moment was pushed aside. Seeing Aizen leaving, she blinked before calling his name. Much to her own hangover-related discomfort.  
"C-Captain Aizen!"  
Said man glanced back, blinking.  
"Yes?"  
She owed him; owed him very largely, and the normal false kindness was now out of her reach. Ichimin would have to make it up to him somehow, and chose a route she hadn't thought she would ever use with a shinigami.  
"I…I'd like to talk again sometime. Maybe over lunch. As friends."  
The last part was added very quickly; no need for getting mixed signals and scaring the man off after she decided to talk with him. Aizen blinked again, in what appeared to be some degree of surprise, before smiling.  
"That sounds lovely, Kumorigachi-san." Back to normal honorifics; when the hell did he decide to skip those earlier, anyway? Ichimin smiled a bit, a wry expression at her own attempts to want to talk to him instead of blowing it all off and getting wasted again some time soon to forget it.  
"I will be seeing you later, Kumorigachi-san." The voice brought her back to reality and the door closed right as she was in the middle of a goodbye. An oddly loud click came from the door, and Ichimin bolted and tried to open it. Aizen had locked it to make sure she got her rest. Damn Fourth Division and their two-way locking doors.  
"Dammit, should'a known."  
A dragging of her feet back to the bed, and the woman splayed out on the futon again to ponder her change of heart. No, not a change of heart. Once she lost the feeling of owing Aizen, it'd go back to normal and she could hate everyone again. That, she was sure of.

"…Maybe I can go back to bed…"  
A tired comment; her eyes flicked closed for a moment, but that was all she needed to fall asleep again.

The tall woman stood before Ichimin Kumorigachi, staring down at her very intensely. Very very intensely. Another reason Ichimin hated Fourth division; they wouldn't let you go until they thought you were fine. Worse, they'd learned from her past injuries and put her in a room with no window so that she couldn't escape. Funny enough that the time one of the nurses leaves the door unlocked, she gets out and runs right into the one person she wants to talk to the absolute least.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi. Isn't one day a bit early to be leaving Fourth Division?"  
She had been caught in her attempt to sneak out and hide her reiatsu; damn this woman for being so smart.  
"...Of course not, Captain Unohana. I feel fine.  
Not entirely a lie. She felt pretty good now. Good and fucking ready to get the hell out of here. Unohana stared down on her a moment longer.  
"...Very well, I suppose you will be fine. Come back if there are any complications."  
Ichimin gave a nod, a 'Hai!' and was off with her Zanpakuto in tow; stolen from the room they'd been keeping it in to make sure she didn't carve her way out of the hospital room.

_'I hate Fourth Division. They always look down on you, like you're either an Eleventh idiot, or some poor sap that got creamed on a patrol mission. Plus, they never listen to me when I say I'm damn well fine. And..'_  
Ichimin glanced back at the building, her shoulder a bit stiff but fine otherwise.  
'It always reminds me of some mausoleum for the living.'

The thought was brushed off as she began shunpoing to her division, intent on actually doing something today and not laying around in bed. Stepping into the division building itself, she didn't see either Nanao or Kyoraku so there wouldn't be any interrogations on why she was nearly 'violated' as the Fourth division nurses called it.

Making it to her office, she quietly opened the door and sat down to do some of the mountain of paperwork that now towered on her desk and wobbled dangerously as she sat down. Damn the paperwork. Damn Kyoraku for hiding his paperwork in with hers; she could tell because it smelled of his cologne. That shit always gave him away. Kyoraku's cologne was fucking sake. Ichimin wouldn't be surprised if he bled sake.

Getting out her pen, she began to sign off on papers here and there, mostly just her name now and then, and occasionally she found one that needed Kyoraku's or multiple Captain's signatures. Fucking great; another signature run.

'Zaraki better not be on he-FUCK, Zaraki's on here.'

Kenpachi Zaraki was the one that nobody ever got paperwork from. Because Eleventh was a fucking lazy ass division that never did it. That was something Ichimin really envied of Eleventh division.

"Heh. We don't have much of a paperwork problem here. Tends to get turned into paper airplanes."

Ichimin recalled something Ikkaku'd said at one point in time when she asked about the paperwork problem over at Eleventh. It had been on a good day. And there had been sake. Of course there had been sake; after that one particular morning, only sake or missions could bring Ichimin Kumorigachi and Ikkaku Madarame within a hundred feet of each other.

Stacking more paperwork together, Ichimin's four neat stacks consisted of done paperwork to be sent out, not done paperwork, paperwork that needed either Kyoraku or Nanao's signature, and paperwork that needed the signatures of multiple Captains. Glancing at the even piles, she weighted the time before sunset she had left, and if she'd rather talk to her Captain or Lieutenant, or the Captains that were either annoying, creepy or dangerous to talk to.

"Guess we're going on a signature run."

Paperwork shifted in her hands; Ichimin shunpoed through the door and down a few hallways, dodging Nanao narrowly and heading out the window. She then jumped back down to the normal Seireitei streets, getting ready to go through Hell itself.

"First signature...Captain Ichimaru. That'll be good."

It was quickly that she made her way to Third division, not too worried about getting this particular signature. The only thing she had to worry about was if Gin would actually sign the damn thing or just play mind games again. He was too crafty for his own good, that man was. Cheery looking fellow, but damn sneaky.

_'Helluva poker face.'_

She slipped into the division itself, glancing around for who she already knew wouldn't be there. He was never where you thought he'd be, he was always right behind you. Staring. Smiling.

Now wandering around the Third division like a lost moron, she decided that she would continue to do so until Gin Ichimaru decided to stop stalking her and show his smiling mug.

_'I know he's following me, he does it every time I come in with paperwork. I think he wants me to give up on getting his signature so he ca-'_

"Wach'a doin', Ichimin?"  
A voice crooned behind her, RIGHT behind her, actually. Ichimin jumped, as all humane people would do, before turning around to glare at him.

Except he wasn't there anymore.

"...Fucking hell, Captain Ichimaru. Knock the shit off and get out here to sign paperwork."

A barking pseudo-order; he always pissed her off when he did this. But then again, they both knew that seeing her pissed off was a sign of trust. Well, seeing her pissed off when she wasn't drunk as shit.

"Aw, tha's no fun. Not in th' mood 'ta play games t'day?"  
To her left. She instead swung around to her right, seeing him leaning against the wall lazily. Trademark smile that screamed 'RAPIST' in place.  
"Gettin' better." Gin commented on her turning to find him, and Ichimin tsked  
"We play enough of these games; I had damn well better be getting good at them by now." She stated in monotone, now thrusting out a piece of paper at him. He frowned childishly at the papers; as if actually signing them was such a damn hard task.  
"No fun, no fun Ichimin. What'samatter? Attempted rape gettin' ya down this much?"  
Ichimin blinked, before huffing.  
"A'course not. Not like it's the first time; I told you the story of Seventy Ninth, Captain."

Ichimaru's smile returned, and he took the pen and paper from Ichimin airily.

"A'course ya did, a'course ya did. I heard it all b'fore."

A quick scrawled signature; what you'd expect from a Rukon rat. Because once you were one, it stained you forever. Ichimin knew it, Gin knew it, Matsumoto knew it, Renji knew it, Rukia knew it. Everyone that had ever lived through their childhood in Rukongai knew it. It wasn't something you could wash off.

A piece of paper was hung in front of her face, the pen next to it.

"Yer' in a mood. Get wasted 'r somethin'."

Ichimin blinked, taking the paper and sighing.

"Getting wasted is what put me in the mood in the first place, Captain."  
She looked down at the signed paper and blinked at what was at the end of the signature. A smiley face.  
"...Captain."  
Gin smiled down wider on her, waiting for it.  
"Yah?"  
"What is this."  
"...Oh, tha'? Why, tha's a smiley face Ichimin."  
"I know what it is!"  
"Ah? Then why'd ya go an' ask what it was?"

A loud groan of frustration; she was losing his mind games. Again. Ichimin just gave up, muttering a 'nevermind' when something tapped her shoulder. Blinking, she turned around to face him again and got a slap across the face.

"FUCK!!"  
Rubbing her left cheek, she glared up at Gin.  
"What the HELL was that??"

He merely smiled, rendering Ichimin unable to see what he was thinking or feeling.  
"Slapped th' happy int'a ya. Don' be makin' me do it again."

For a moment, there was silence. And then, there was laughter.

"That's idiotic!! Did you just slap the happy into me??"  
The idea was so absurd to Ichimin that she couldn't help but laugh. Her sense of humor had always been odd. Gin continued smiling, what the hell else did he do, moving around her and ruffling her hair as he passed. Just to mess up what disheveled order it had been in earlier, most likely.

"That I did. Now, ya got some pap'rwork 'ta be deliverin' don't ya?" Gin called over his shoulder, sliding lazily down the hallway. Most likely to torment Izuru and make him do work that Ichimaru was too lazy to do. Ichimin blinked, before huffing.  
"Asshole. All in the span of sixty seconds he freaks me out, makes me pissed, slaps the dog shit out of me, makes me laugh and then ruins my good mood."

She did indeed have signatures to collect still, and quickly left Third division on her way to Sixth.

_'Shit. Now I get to talk to HIGH AND MIGHTY KUCHIKI ON HIS FUCKING PODIUM, so he can tell me that I'm inferior to him in some way or another. Most likely more than one.'_

Groaning, she quickly fixed her smile and face to be the sober Ichimin that nearly everyone in Seireitei knew. These people couldn't know the truth; just couldn't.

People can't handle the truth about some things. Some things were too big, too dark for some people to know. And for the people that hold secrets too dark and too massive for the populous, the only ones to speak with about them are the ones in similarly dire situations.

Unknown to Ichimin Kumorigachi, she'd spoken to one today and was going to speak to another before the day was done.

**((AN: Sorry for the delay on all my stories. My laptop fizzled out, and got fixed in time for me to do shitloads of homework. Fucking hate writing notecards. Anyway, once I finish the homework load I've got, I'll update on all my stories. Toodles!!))**


	4. The Grand Signature Odyssey

**((AN: Alrighty then, this chapter will probably (I say probably because I write the author's notes here before I write the story itself) expound upon some sort of beginning relationship I need to kick-start. Almost done with homework hell, so once I do then I'll be writing consistently again.))**

Shunpo. Shunpo. Shunpo shunpo shunpo.

'_Fucking boring! How come I'm always the one that has to do all the paperwork?? What about that useless third seat of ours with the 'IMPERMEABLE MOUNTAIN DEFENSE' or something like that??'_

Ichimin's thoughts continued on this path for a good while, stopping only as she did in front of the Sixth Division. To get Byakuya Kuchiki's signature.

'_Still don't know why that stuck up fucker has so many women throwing themselves at him. He's a total prick.'_

Sidestepping a couple shinigami as she entered with her little paperwork stack under her arm, Ichimin glanced around for any sign of the arrogant blueblood.

"Where would I be…"

_'If I was a blueblooded prick?'_

"Office."

The little self-conversation ended abruptly as she began making her way to Sixth's Captain's office, with directions from a few helpful shinigami. Knocking three times sharply, she stood at the door for a minute before hearing footsteps coming at her. The door opened and Ichimin blinked up at Renji Abarai.

"…Hey Abarai. What're you doing in Captain Kuchiki's office?"

The redhead only sighed, moving a bit for her to see his –smaller- desk next to the –big- desk Kuchiki had. Paperwork stacked high on Renji's little desk. It almost looked quite comical, the little midget desk next to the big person desk. Poor, demasculinitized Renji. Ichimin only blinked, before returning her sight over Renji's shoulder. Byakuya was at his desk signing papers.

"Uh, I need a signature from Captain Kuchiki."

The noble didn't look up, merely motioned her over with a wave of his pen. She sidestepped Renji and approached the large mahogany desk, holding out the paper to Byakuya who signed it in an elegant and refined cursive.

"I have heard that you were accosted the other night."

It was a statement she would never had expected from Byakuya Kuchiki. Was he actually worried?

"Uh, yeah. It was nothing. Couple drunkards, that's all."

She reached for the paper, and he held it to her.

"A trio of drunkards causing the Seireitei difficulties. I would suggest you at least attempt to control your alcoholism."

'_YOU FUCKER.'_

Ichimin kept a subservient expression on as she nodded and took the form.

"Of course, Captain."

A demure smile; a mask for how much she was destroying him in her mind at that moment.

'_Fucking asshole, calling me out. I'm not the one that runs around-'_

"Oh yeah, I heard about that Ichimin. You alright?"

"Yeah Renji, I'm fine."

'_-Seireitei with a stick up my ass, parading like I'm the fucking king of everything good and noble, or a PROTECTOR OF JUSTICE or a Power Ranger, or even Captain Planet or some shit like that, I bet your wife hated your ass-'_

"Leaving?"

"Of course, Captain Kuchiki."

'_You blueblooded prick.'_

Ichimin left the office with a warm smile and the evilest of thoughts on her mind.

"Alright, where's the next dose of fresh hell I have-fuck it's Kurotsuchi."

It was all combined into one sentence as she read the name and grimaced. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a creepy fuck. Ichimin was sort of friends with Nemu; she was more or less a doll, which really creeped Ichimin out at some points in time. No matter; she needed a signature and by fuck, she was going to get one and then drink herself to death later on tonight. That sounded lovely.

Quite a shunpo distance it was from Sixth to Twelfth division; six companies of waving to random people and to Ninth's Captain, Kaname Tosen. He was kind of creepy, and the constant lecturing about justice was really damn annoying but he wasn't a bad guy. And how he saw her wave and waved back a bit, she would never ever know and didn't really care to find out. Hitsugaya was also out and about, and the two of them exchanged nods and Rangiku Matsumoto lashed out in a surprise tackling.  
"I heard about what happened!! We should have stuck together; God knows you were beyond wasted!"

Ichimin blinked, attempting to be free of the suffocating bosom she was currently trapped in.

"I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine, Lieutenant! Really, nothing happened! Captain Aizen chased 'em off for me, so you can let me go now!"

It was an indirect plea for release; Matsumoto obliged, and Ichimin staggered back a step to shake her head free of the boob smothering-induced suffocation sparkles. Once she did, Ichimin ran a hand to push her hair back with a sigh. Tired. TIRED. Matsumoto was looking at her face and frowned, pointing a bit.

"Why's your cheek all red?"

Ichimin blinked, putting a hand to it. Feeling the heat and guessing it must have been pretty red for Matsumoto to see it, she laughed it off.

"Oh, that? Got slapped by Gin. Said I should have the happy slapped into me."

She rubbed it a bit and heard Hitsugaya tsk at the name of the Third's Captain. The three of them were heading in the same direction, so at Tenth they'd probably leave Ichimin to face Twelfth alone.

Matsumoto didn't look pleased with the information. She sighed audibly, putting hands on her hips.

"You two; you're too much alike. Same sense of humor and everything."

'_More than you know, Matsumoto.'_

Ichimin blinked, keeping thoughts hidden and laughing a bit.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Ichimin queried, brushing her hair back again. It was falling in her face much too often lately; time for another cut. Matsumoto smirked a bit, patting the normal cheek.

"It's fine as long as you don't start running off at random times and don't start smiling too much."

_'Don't worry, I do enough frowning to make up for it.'_

Ichimin laughed, glancing to Hitsugaya a moment. He seemed annoyed by her and Matsumoto's chattiness.

"Wouldn't think about it for a second. Now, this is your division isn't it? I've got to go get…ugh, Captain Kurotsuchi's signature on some paperwork."

She sighed at the piece of loathed paperwork; Matsumoto grimaced a bit.

"Tough luck. Be careful where you sit and don't eat or drink anything while you're there."

The two parties split up, both Ichimin and Matsumoto waving goodbye as they did.

"If I don't come back, bury what's left of my most likely liquefied body in a sake bottle!!"

Ichimin called, and Matsumoto grinned.

"Of course, of course!"

As the two groups went their own ways, Ichimin flashed past Eleventh to avoid being challenged to spar or something and stopped at the entrance to Twelfth. Tons of normal shinigami were wandering around; they weren't dead. Yet.

'_Don't think 'yet', you'll lose your damn nerve!'_

A deep breath and she strode in, finding the entire place entirely too normal for comfort. It was too normal…WAY too normal to be Twelfth. She had never been inside Twelfth, because it was creepy as fuck, but now it looked almost normal. But appearances can be deceiving; Kurotsuchi was a scary fuck, and she knew there must be something spooky nearby that wanted to turn her into a pureed former shinigami.

'_Damn it, it's not even wartime so I can't drag my Zanpakuto around with me.'_

She asked a couple people where Kurotsuchi's office was, and they pointed her down towards a spooky set of stairs. Great. It's in the basement.

She began a slow descent, clutching her papers close to herself as she did. It was dark down there, and the creepy off-blue lights cast a flickering fluorescent glow over a very small area around them, so only spots were very visible.

_'Die, I will die here. Lawdy, he's gonna kill me and they'll never find what's left.'_

"Captain Kurotsuchi?" She called out, false calm in her voice. No answer, but she could hear noises in the back of the area.

"Captain…?"

Her voice cracked, and she walked quietly across the room to a door. Without care at all really, she pushed open the door and peeked inside.

"Ca-"

Immediately she slammed the door as loud as hell and moonwalked in terror to the opposite wall.

"Oh fuck…" She murmured, putting a hand over her wide eyes and attempting to forget what she'd just seen. The door opened a moment later and she heard someone walking in a brisk hurried and annoyed stamp, the paper and pen wrenched from her, signed and then shoved back into her hands.

"Get out of my division and learn to knock before opening doors, you idiot."

The mere look in Kurotsuchi's fucking creepy bright gold eyes was enough to send her near running for the stairs. She could have sworn she heard him yelling at somebody for 'something other than a towel you useless moron', maybe it was at her or maybe at Nemu, but she didn't pay attention and more or less tore out of Twelfth division with no intents to ever return.

"Can't believe I caught him getting out of the shower." She muttered, trying to get the mental image of a full-frontal view of Kurotsuchi without clothes out of her mind. Who knew he had a face behind the mask though? Or even lips? Ichimin had assumed that he had none and lost them in some sort of accident. You didn't go up to Kurotsuchi asking if he had a face or not.

"What fresh Hell am I going to go experience now?" She sighed, moving to see who needed to sign the paper. Next was-

"Zaraki. Dammit."

At least it was close. And she wasn't missing any limbs from her visit to Twelfth, which was a godsend. A few deep breaths and a couple shunpo, and Ichimin slid into Eleventh division's courtyard easily. Inside, men fought and beat each other senseless with wooden swords and things like that. Most of them were damn ugly too, and stared at the random woman walking through their division.

'_Fucking morons, running around like idiots beating each other senseless with swords to see who has the biggest-'_

"Ichi!!!" A high voice squealed, and the distracted Ichimin didn't even track the pink blur that slammed into her chest and threw her to the ground. Her head rammed against the ground and the urge to swear profusely was repressed as she opened her eyes to look into another red pair, glimmering with childlike wonder.

"Hey Lieutenant Kusajishi." The older woman said tiredly to the young girl. Yachiru was currently lying in the valley of her breasts, face-to-face with Ichimin. The weight was uncomfortable, but Ichimin didn't say anything about it to Yachiru who was already going on a mile a minute about something or other. Her paperwork was still in her hand, held in a death grip. Who the hell would want to have to go on another run and see Kurotsuchi again; hell no. She'd never be able to look at him the same again.

"Ichi, I heard somethin' happened to you! You got raped, didn't you? They slammed your ass?" Yachiru queried, smiling brightly. Bless the adorable pink little ball of sunshine, she listened to the Eleventh's sex conquest story time too often.

"No, not this time. Captain Aizen came around and scared them off." Kumorigachi sighed, as the little girl laughed from her spot on Ichimin's chest. Yachiru she could tolerate; cute kid, fun to torture Madarame and Ayasegawa with, always ready to listen. She, Gin and Matsumoto were the only ones with the honor of being able to call Ichimin 'Ichi' and not have her get pissed off at them.

"Lucky he did, or you'd be dead as shit most likely." A familiar rough voice called, and Ichimin sighed.

"Madarame, you're one of the assholes that decided to let my drunk ass try and shunpo back. Shut up."

Yachiru moved to sit on her breasts, which was more than a bit uncomfortable as she unwittingly sat right on the girls but Ichimin blinked and didn't let it show. She craned her neck back and looked up at Ikkaku and Yumichika, together as always. Ikkaku had a wooden sword and Yumichika appeared to have just been spectating, seeing as Madarame didn't have a shirt on and was sweaty while Ayasegawa looked fine.

"Shut the hell up, you falling and breakin' your ass in a drunken stupor isn't my damn problem."

He was staring down at Yachiru sitting on her chest, the girl staring at Ikkaku a moment before Ichimin pointed up at him and spoke.

"Sic 'em, Yachiru-chan."

In a flash instant, Yachiru springboarded off of her chest (painfully, very painfully) and flew at Ikkaku's head, latching onto his face and chewing on his bald skull. Ikkaku screamed some sort of profanity and swung around, half yelling and half begging Yachiru to get the fuck off of his face. Yumichika was attempting to hide a smirk at the scene and Ichimin wasn't even trying as she began laughing hysterically and pointing.

"What's his face taste like, Yachiru??" She barked out in between laughter, and Yachiru dragged her little teeth out long enough to speak.

"BANANAS!!"

She then reattached to Ikkaku's skull, much to his ire. Ichimin's paperwork sat on her chest where Yachiru had been, as she howled with laughter at Yachiru's antics. Ichimin continued laughing, unknowing of the large shadow now looming over her figure on the ground or the fact that an odd silence had fallen over the courtyard.

"The hell are all 'a you lazy bastards doing?"

The voice cut the mood short, the entire training area looking up to the figure and saluting. Yachiru detached from Ikkaku once again, perching on his bald head and leaping off of it onto the towering man's shoulder.

"Look Kenny, Ichi came to visit!!"

Ichimin rolled her head back to look up, up, up at Kenpachi Zaraki and nearly died. Fucking scary as shit.

"Greetings, Captain Zaraki."

She waved slightly, before remembering why she came here and rolling onto her feet.

"Just saying hi to Lieutenant Kusajishi-san. And…"

She trailed off, glancing back to an at-attention Ikkaku, who had little teeth marks all over his bald head, and Yumichika, who was ignoring Ikkaku. Zaraki blinked.

"And."

"And…I've just got some…_things_…that I need you to si-"

Before Ichimin even finished, Zaraki had turned around and was walking off, showing his uncooperative mood towards doing paperwork.

"Nah." He answered dully, his bells tinkling as he walked away. Ichimin blinked before running after him. His steps were much larger than hers and she had to jog to keep up.

"C-come on, Captain, I need this signed!!" She half-whined, waving the papers in the air to emphasize. Zaraki ignored her, and she sped up to walk backwards in front of him.

"It's the span of writing your damn name! Come on, I need this and then I'll be off on my merry way! I'm not quitting after I risked going after Kurotsuchi's signature!!"

_'You one eyed pirate bastard.'_

Zaraki stopped, Yachiru blinking. She had been watching Ichimin's desperate attempts with great amusement, but was now curious as Zaraki looked down at Ichimin.

"Fine, I'll sign it."

Ichimin's face lit up, and she nearly shouted in joy before the next words out of his mouth turned her shout of joy into a dreading, horrified gurgle.

"But only if ya spar with me first."

**((AN: LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE HERE, GAIS.**

**I know it's a douche move to leave it at a cliffhanger, but I have to this time because I'm currently in Sophomore English and supposed to be writing notecards. You know, thought I'd give you a slice of my life. I'm not an awesome college student or some adult in a house with a husband or kids. I'm writing fanfic chapters sitting in an uncomfortable and small desk in my high school.**

**Next chapter is hard to predict. Either tonight, or if I really take my time and make it epic, tomorrow at around noon. I'm leaning towards dragging it out, making it very descriptive and getting into badassery sparring. Huge fight will be huge; if I can do it right, I want it to leave you guys (the readers) on the edge of your seats. That's what I'm aiming for. I want to show Ichimin as a highly trained and high-seated shinigami, not just as the useless drunkard you've seen so far.**

**Yes, the Aizen romance plot is still on-going, I just haven't had the time since this little paper run that was originally set up for Ichimin to meet up again with Aizen has turned into an epic adventure around Seireitei. And I've got some epic ideas for huge subplots and drama later on. Totally.**

**You know, I had never expected this story to be as popular as it has been. The first chapter was written on a whim; Ichimin Kumorigachi has gone so very far from my original idea for her. I had started with, 'I'm bored and I need a character. Eh…I'll make her act like me.'**

**And so she started off lazy and bored. Then, she somehow turned into a bitch from some odd sort of evolution. And then, she turned into some sort of angsty self-hating drunkard that depends on alcohol to get through her days. And now she's the personable nice person that runs around Seireitei making friends and cutting up. But don't worry, I've kept all these differences in mind though, so she'll return to a three dimensional character once again, and lose the odd schizophrenia.**

**Anyway, I'm getting off now because it's almost time for me to leave class. I'll come back later, with new chapters for my stories along with (hopefully) two new stories' first chapters. Toodles!!))**


	5. The Zaraki Debacle & A Grand Ass Kicking

**((AN: Zaraki fight in this one, and there's not going to be magical Mary Sue powers here. I'll absolutely promise you that one. No, someone is getting their ass kicked. Thoroughly. Guess who.))**

Ichimin gaped, the horror at Zaraki's ultimatum evident on her face. Yachiru was positively beaming; this was most likely going to be fun for her to watch.

"…I…uh…s-sir…" Kumorigachi began, before shaking her head in disbelief.

"I-I'm an officer! Just an officer!! I can't possibly-" She began to argue, before Zaraki cut her off.

"Spar or I won't sign shit."

The paper was loose in her hand, the decision between life and her paperwork now weighing heavily on Ichimin's mind. One or the other; which would the woman sacrifice for the latter.

"I…ugh, fine." She groaned, hanging her head in defeat. Glancing up, she then scanned both of their hands. No wooden sparring swords that she could see. And where had Yachiru gone off to now?

"Where's the bokuto-"

A ragged steel blade whizzed by her head, causing the Fifth seat to duck and stagger back a few steps. Zaraki didn't have a bokuto at all. No wooden sparring sword; just his own…Zan…paku…

"…To." She breathed the last part of the word as he came at her again, aiming for a slash to the belly. A shunpo backwards; the blade nicked her skin and she realized that the blow had aimed to be deep, enough so to slice her nearly in half.

'_Th-that psychotic pirate asshole!! He's really trying to kill me now!!'_

A shadow looming over her ominously brought the shinigami officer back to the present, a staggering reiatsu slamming down upon her. It took her breath; made it difficult to even move, much less fight. Her speed impaired left her perfectly open for the slice across the shoulders she received next, only kept moderate by the force of Kenpachi's monstrous reiatsu making her lose the ability to stand for a moment and sending her tumbling forward. She hit the ground painfully, hands being bitten by the sharp grit of the dirt. A light calling; Yachiru's childishly high pitched voice rang out amongst the shouts and jeers of the crowd of Eleventh divisioners watching the fight and cheering for their Captain with excessive gusto. They roared 'Kill her Cap'n!!' and 'Slice 'er 'ead off!' the shouts coming from men that couldn't exactly be considered normal. Or sane. But then again, neither could their Captain.

"Kenny, Ichi's not fun at all to see you fight! She's too weak; maybe you should let her draw her sword!" Yachiru called from God-knows-where, both hands cupping her mouth to try and amplify the childish voice. A quick glance from Ichimin's crouched position alerted her to Yachiru comfortably sitting as a spectator to the sparring match/massacre with Ikakku and Yumichika back against the division wall, all three sitting on the ground; Yumichika sitting too polite-appearing for an Eleventh divisioner, fanning himself with her precious paperwork and Ikkaku with his legs crossed in a sloppy, male manner, arms crossed behind his head lazily. Damn them.

By moving to her feet in a sharp, painful jerk and whirling around, Ichimin could see that Zaraki had his sword at the ready to bite at her again, the fifth seat distastefully noting the crimson coloring of the blade's end. It glinted in the sunlight, steel silver and blood red.

"Not even a challenge. Draw 'yer sword; let's see if you'll make a good anecdote later on or not." The imposing Captain ordered, looking thoroughly bored. The woman addressed scowled at all the insults she was catching; didn't they at least wait until she wasn't in the immediate vicinity?

"I don't have a sword!!" Ichimin exclaimed, pointing to her left hip not having her Zanpakuto or sheath on it and the obvious fact that they weren't in wartime and couldn't carry swords around. It was common sense. At least, Ichimin had thought so. Zaraki shrugged.

"Like I give a damn. Find one."

His answer was both unhelpful and far from comforting as Ichimin searched wildly for any sort of blade, her hunting gaze ripping from side to side across the training ground. Zaraki would no doubt grow impatient soon and just decide to kill her or something, unless she found a weapon to amuse him with. The sheen of metal catching sunlight attracted her gaze and the woman realized that there were practice blades in the courtyard, in the far corner. Well used, by the appearance of them. Ichimin didn't care; they were things to defend herself with. A couple painful shunpo tore at her wounds as she forced herself across the training yard, blood tapping a path after her in little drips onto the ground as she did. She stopped in front of a large rack of weapons, breathing heavily and hunting for the blade that she knew she could wield the easiest. Her calloused fingers, worn from years of wielding the Zanpakuto and it's release form ran over the hilts of the blades, searching for the one type she could wield with ease.

'_Come on, come on…'_

A certain long pole shape caught her eye and she nearly cried out with relief, grabbing the handle of a particularly long naginata tightly as sweat ran down from her hairline down her neck. It wasn't what she was perfect with, but it was as close as she was going to get. The blade drew free easily in her hands, whipped around into correct position while an unpleasant sticky warm feeling on her back was being ignored alongside the pain. She couldn't fret about the bleeding right now; apparently it was less than ten to fifteen percent of her blood, because she mainly felt fine. In pain, but fine.

Ichimin turned slowly on her heel, noting that Zaraki was in the same place as before and now obviously getting bored waiting on her. Slowly, she walked forward with the long polearm in her left hand for carrying, footsteps making a particular crunching sound as the dirt crushed under her geta. Ironically, those crunching footsteps mirrored the trail of blood drops that still followed her even as she moved now, reminding her exactly what she was about to be doing. Assisted suicide.

Ichimin Kumorigachi stopped around six or so feet in front of Kenpachi Zaraki, moving the naginata into correct position. She stared up at him, all the fire and resistance in her eyes that she could muster.

"Ready, Captain?" She queried in a deceptively light tone. Zaraki just stared her down a moment longer.

"Are you gonna just stand there like a dipshit, or are you gonna fight?"

A light smirk touched Ichimin's lips, as her hands felt oddly cold and the warm blood began to spot through her shihakusho. The sun caught both of their blades; they glimmered in the light almost in an ironic manner; the weapons designed to kill looked so pretty when they were in the sunlight. Especially Zaraki's, the rouge blood standing out like melted rubies on the blade.

'_Pretty.'_

The slight thought slipped through her mind like tendrils of silk or strands of spiderweb. The romantic idea of silken threads slipping through her fingers was discarded easily enough as she lunged forward in a quick short leap, swinging the naginata in a circular motion to attempt a slice upon his sword arm. Zaraki didn't even move and let the hit connect, Ichimin grinning with the prospect of landing a hit on the bloodthirsty Captain.

"She really doesn't keep up with Eleventh, does she?" Yumichika sighed, fanning himself a bit in the heat. It was the end of autumn, that odd span of time where the temperature fluctuated between hot and cold. Today it was hot; most likely one of the last warm days they would have in a while. Ikkaku gave a gruff humph, watching Ichimin attempt a hail-Mary attack.

"Doesn't look like it. Or maybe she thinks her reiatsu matches up with the Captain's."

He was still shirtless; the top of his shihakusho would either be found later (most likely in an odd place he happened to toss it, like a tree or in a puddle of water) or hunted for, given up on and then forgotten while he got a new one.

"Poor Ichi; she's no match for Kenny. Hope she doesn't bleed out fighting." Yachiru sighed, sitting next to the two older subordinates. This fight wasn't even fun; Ichimin wasn't nearly strong enough to spar with Zaraki. Because for Kenpachi Zaraki, 'spar' is the same thing as 'Fight to the death'.

It was with an odd sense of disbelief that Ichimin noted her blade had made no cut at all, sliding harmlessly along his skin as if the blade were a pillow. All her reiatsu poured into that one blow, and it hadn't even matched up to what he let out unconsciously. She stared blankly at the ineffectiveness of the attack, forgetting she was in a potentially deadly battle and then noted that blood was running down from her hand to her elbow, dripping onto the dusty ground. Zaraki sighed a bit, pushing away the blade as if it were a toy.

"Damn. Thought this'd be fun."

His blade jumped forward and gored in a clean slice through her stomach area, white-hot pain stabbing through her torso like knives causing Ichimin to stagger back a few steps for safety, holding a hand over the wound. She only paid a quick glance to it, to assess the extent of the injury. Were those intestines? God, this was a bad day. Yachiru had stolen her paperwork and now Yumichika seemed to be holding it. The least he could do, since his Captain was tearing the fifth seat to pieces.

Ichimin laid a hand over the deep laceration wound and winced, briefly (and stupidly) wondering if this was a spar or a fight to the…fine, a fight to_ her_ death. The sound of Kenpachi approaching in long lazy strides, the crunching of dirt under geta and the soft tinkling of his bells confirmed her fears, and she flipped the naginata into position again.

"Give up kid!" Someone from the crowd of shinigami in the Eleventh division surrounding them called out. She heard a chorus of jeers that followed, ignoring them and the urge she had to let go of the shaft of her weapon to wipe blood from her hand. It was making it hard to hold onto the weapon tight enough to make effective attacks; damn Zaraki and his superior reiatsu. Tsking, she swept the pole of the weapon and attempted to strike at his head, preferably the good eye not covered in a patch. He was gone in an instant, and Ichimin whirled around to block the swung Zanpakuto with the long pole section of her naginata, blood sliding down to her elbows in gentle streams crisscrossing the bottom of her forearms.

'_Come on Ichimin, you're a fifth seat. Straight out brawling isn't working and you're bleeding out; what would work that won't get me arrested for attacking a Captain with deadly force?'_

Kido and Hado were out of the question; either one would get her arrested. She didn't have her Zanpakuto; why the fuck Zaraki had his was a mystery to her. Bastard.

'…_Alright, I've got a plan.'_

With a hard twist, she pushed back Zaraki's blade and stuck the blade of the naginata into the dirt next to Zaraki, using it to swing herself out of the range of his sword and jerking it free to twirl and slice at his Achilles tendon, on the left foot. He was equally fast, twisting out of the way and arcing his blade towards what she believed to be her face or throat. Sure didn't play around, did he?

"Fuck!!" Ichimin spat, and the ragged blade sliced through her shoulder before she could dance away with weapon in tow. She kept her step steady as she jumped back a few paces, shaking off the pain that could be ignored. More blood loss; she was feeling the effects and her vision was starting to ghost itself.

"Ichi looks pale!" Yachiru called, and Ichimin dimly noted that her hands did look paler than normal. Holding her naginata tight, she used the back of an arm to brush back her hair without removing her hands from the weapon. Her skin was cold; that was a really, really bad sign. Especially since it was a hot day outside. Zaraki watched her attempt to stand in place and nearly stumble; the sight was beyond pitiful.

"Give it up; you can barely stand, much less fight."

The words were met with adoring cheers from Eleventh, agreeing on his statement and jeering at Ichimin once more.

'_Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I'm losing, and I've lost too much blood. Fuck; I'm not letting this berserker pirate bastard take me out so damn easy.'_

Ichimin's thoughts were interrupted with Zaraki standing over her, leveling back for another swing. It came down quick, Ichimin spinning out of the way and attempting to strike his larger frame with the feathered tassel at the end of the naginata. The attention-drawing mechanism failed on the Captain, who ignored it in favor of blocking the blunt end with his arm and driving his ragged Zanpakuto towards Ichimin's smaller figure.

"Not quite." Her voice came out labored and exhausted, as Zaraki noticed that she had her naginata held over her head, holding back his blade with much difficulty. The weapon was shaking in her grip as she attempted to hold his reiatsu back with her own. It was losing battle, only seconds left before he won out.

The force holding him back broke and one half of the naginata dropped, throwing his blade off to the side using his own volition as she twirled it over her head like a baton and threw the blade into a vicious crescent swing towards his chest. The very faintest sensations of catching fabric on the end of her blade were short-lived however, as Kenpachi's Zanpakuto swung in a circle to carve through a shallow portion of her side. So much blood lost; Ichimin staggered back, unable to regain her footing and balance. Her back hit the wall of the division headquarters with a painful thudding sensation, blood spotting the white building walls crimson here and there as sweat ran down her neck and her heavy breathing sounded out in a rhythmic pattern.

Yachiru blinked ruby eyes, looking closer at Ichimin's neck. Something was weird.

"What's on Ichi's neck?" She called, loudly, and immediately all attention was drawn to a faint line going across Ichimin's throat. The woman blinked surprised, actually letting go of her weapon with one hand to wipe it across her neck. Apparently, sweat had made the concealer run. She stared down at the substance on her hand and sighed, using the clean-ish sections of her shihakusho near her neck to wipe at her throat.

"Damn…didn't think…anyone'd see…good eyes, Lieutenant." She spoke, in between heavy breaths. The wiping finished; she let go of the uniform piece and brushed her hair back to show her throat fully. Yachiru blinked again, looking close at what she saw. Yumichika sighed a bit. Ikkaku tched.

"Damn."

Zaraki himself didn't look surprised in the least at the long scar going right across her throat, the scar what would normally be a mortal wound. It looked as if someone had attempted to slice her throat open at one point in time, the mark deep and most obviously purposeful. It was colored as such to show that it wasn't a new scar, very, very old most likely. Ichimin chuckled a bit, humorlessly.

"Don't ya just love Rukongai? Funny, how…six-year-old girls run the risk of…getting their throats slit in Seventy…Ninth. Wonder I didn't…bleed out on the ground; pure…luck some Fourth division hopeful found me…when he did."

She rubbed the old scar as if it itched, obviously not used to people seeing it so openly.

"Makeup works wonders…to keep people from…staring, you know."

She twisted her weapon back into position, staring down Zaraki with all the fire she had left in her.

"Alright Captain…I'm not going to last…much longer, so why don't you…and I finish this in…the next blow?"

It was more a treaty than a real threat. Zaraki shrugged, moving his nameless Zanpakuto back and ready to fight.

"Whatever ya say; this fight's borin' as shit anyway."

Ichimin smirked a bit and nodded her head, slowly due to how heavy it was feeling right about now.

"Fair 'nough."

She twisted the blade of her naginata up to be ready to meet Zaraki's blade, and with a few quick shunpo was right before him, his Zanpakuto swinging down the same time as she dragged her naginata up in a long slash. A terrific meeting of reiatsus crashed down, and the final outcome was visible to all in the bright sun, so very painful to look upon and that made their killing tools shine like holy artifacts.

Zaraki stood unaffected as a naginata blade lay pressed against his shoulder where it's arc had ceased suddenly, looking down at the shorter fifth seat whose head had lolled forward to lay against his body. It had been a terrific meeting, but his blade had gored through her torso. Ichimin was unmoving as the dust settled from the reiatsu blast as Ichimin's suddenly released reiatsu clashed with Zaraki's unconsciously released reiatsu. The Captain jerked his blade free and stepped back, watching Ichimin Kumorigachi drop like a stone. Her blood smeared the front of his white haori as she fell, unconscious to the ground. She had landed face first onto the bloody ground, eyes open and beginning to glaze over from blood loss. The naginata was loose in her grip and it slid downwards off of Kenpachi's shoulder very easily when she fell, now leaving the woman a still form in the dirt.

Every man in the audience began cheering for Zaraki, ignoring the quickly bleeding out eighth divisioner in favor of celebrating their berserker Captain's flawless victory.

"Kenny, is she gonna die?" Yachiru queried, already at Ichimin's side and poking her. Zaraki shrugged; Yumichika was still holding the paper and now looking at it, ignoring Ichimin. Callous Eleventh divisioners are callous.

"Are you going to sign this, Captain?" He asked lightly, waving it in the air and then using it to fan himself. Zaraki shrugged, yelling at some subordinate to get a Fourth out there because he didn't want to deal with a corpse in his division.

"Whatever; give it here. Pen?"

Yumichika stepped over the heavily bleeding Kumorigachi with obvious distaste, handing it to him and hunting for anything to write with.

"I've got one!" Yachiru chirped from Kenpachi's shoulder, hanging it in his face. The two subordinate men blinked. Zaraki didn't act at all as if it were abnormal; getting to sign the paper after his sword was summarily wiped off on the non-bloody section of Ichimin's shihakusho and sheathed.

"Uh…Lieutenant Kusajishi, where did you get that?" Ikkaku queried, staring at her oddly. The little girl laughed cheerily from her seat on Zaraki's shoulder.

"Bya-Bya has too many pens already! He doesn't need all of those!"

Ikkaku and Yumichika sighed a bit, now wondering if Byakuya Kuchiki counted all of his pens at the end of the day. Probably.

"Move aside, move aside." A new voice called, four Fourth divisioners (it was obvious from how nice and clean they were, and how non-thuggish they looked) making their way through the crowd to stop and swarm Ichimin, glancing over this wound and that before doing some basic wraps and loading her up on a stretcher.

"Pretty bad. We'll need to hurry her back to the division for advanced treatment." What could be assumed as the leader of the squadron stated to himself mostly, short brownish hair hanging in his eyes. He glanced back to Zaraki and company, nodding his head respectfully.

"Greetings Captain Zaraki. I assume it was a sparring match gone…wrong?"

An inflection was added to the end of that question, showing his already obvious distaste at mauling random subordinates of other divisions.

"Guess it could be called that." Zaraki stated dismissively, glancing down to Ichimin as they loaded her up and began to cart her off to Fourth.

"Hey, this was with 'er. Make sure she gets it later on; went through Hell 'fer it."

The Fourth divisioner blinked, nodding after a bit and taking the paper Zaraki had offered. He examined various Captain's signatures, and the stain of red dripped onto the paper from Kenpachi's hand. Blood had ran down from the blade of his Zanpakuto and to his hand, and he wiped it off on his haori nonchalantly.

"H…hai, Captain Zaraki. Let's move her now!" He turned and called to his subordinates, who began shunpoing with Ichimin to Fourth for treatment. The brunette Fourth followed soon after, leaving the Eleventh division to disperse and return to their normal routine. Someone set the naginata back into its normal place in the guard, and Ikkaku yawned.

"So, was it any fun Captain?" He queried lazily, stretching and stepping over the bloody dirt where Ichimin had bled heavily. Kenpachi Zaraki thought on it a moment, not too long a moment or a thought but one nonetheless as he glanced to the stain on the ground.

"…Killed some time."

Was his only reply, before he wordlessly began heading back towards the division. Most likely to take a nap or something. Yachiru rode on his shoulder, rubbing her neck now as Ikkaku and Yumichika followed after them.

The blood stain on the ground would just dry and become more of that sharp red dirt that they had here and there. Just one more bloodstain in the Eleventh division; nothing out of the ordinary.

**((Sorry this took so long. I had to rewrite it completely because I wasn't happy at all with it. I still think I could rewrite it better, but I don't want to delay it any longer than it's already been delayed.**

**Also, extra news. I've started beta-reading now, so anyone that'd like a beta-er, I'm open for reading.))**


	6. Late Night Dinner And Midnight Chat

**((AN: Well, after finishing that battle, which I do hope the lot of you thought was epic, Ichimin might finally be catching a break soon. Maybe. Never know, really; I still have no idea, and I never change these author's notes at the beginning.))**

Darkness, and the smell of antiseptic. Again.

Oh, how she ached. Ichimin didn't even have to open her eyes to know how very screwed up she was now. Her stomach, shoulders, everything ached with a very unpleasant throbbing sensation that was in time to match her heartbeat.

"…Ff…"

She began to swear, but gave up after the first sound and just lay there on what she assumed was her lovely Fourth Division futon, her eyes closed and breathing somewhat deeply. From what she could remember, she had battled Kenpachi Zaraki (she said battle because getting impaled on a Zanpakuto that he wasn't even supposed to be carrying around was not a fucking spar) and lost spectacularly.

"Fucking…asshole…"

Her voice came out softly, barely more than a whisper. She opened her eyes slowly, getting used to the low light and looked down to herself. No shihakusho top, just a lot of bandages that covered her entire torso. From the feel of it, they'd seen the blood on her arms and wrapped them up too, just in case. Or maybe they got cut up too; who could know.

A had brushed her throat; softly, she traced the scar. Yachiru had spotted it and she'd had no choice but to show the old injury since what was hiding it was obviously running. Damn cheap non-waterproof concealer.

The noise of a door opening; Ichimin closed her eyes and feigned sleep/unconsciousness, trying to figure out by voice or actions who it was.

"Second time in a day."

Dammit, it was Unohana. Ichimin could never fool the woman, and so she opened her eyes a bit.

"I was out of here for three hours, at least."

Unohana closed her own eyes in what Ichimin recognized as exasperation.

"You are released and choose to fight with Captain Zaraki. What possessed you to do such a thing?"

Her voice was firm; a gentle scolding. Ichimin sighed, laughing a bit.

"Well, I needed a signature and he wouldn't give one to me unless I-"

She realized that the precious paperwork was gone, and she shot up to a sitting position before swearing loudly at the sharp pain and dropping back down onto the futon.

"Stay down; you seem to want to rip open your stitches." Unohana scolded again, being ignored by Ichimin.

"Th-the paperwork! Do you have it, where is it?"

The fifth seat's voice held desperation, and Unohana pointed to a crinkled piece of paper on a table nearby, and Ichimin sighed with relief. She lay back onto the hospital bed, closing her eyes a moment.

"I had to get his signature."

Unohana raised her eyebrows.

"And you were so very desperate as to agree to such a suicidal request?"

The woman on the bed smiled, rubbing her neck absentmindedly.

'_Maybe I'm just fucking crazy enough to agree to it.'_

"Just a thing I had to do, Captain."

Unohana sighed, moving to leave the room.

"Your wounds are severe; you very nearly bled to death."

Ichimin glanced to her stomach and back again.

"New scars, I'm guessing?"

It was said in a near joking manner; both of them knew the answer, it just needed to be said and done with.

"Yes. And you will remain in Fourth Division for more than half a day; don't argue with me because it won't work Fifth seat Kumorigachi."

Ichimin's attempts to argue were stymied, and she closed her mouth with a clicking of her teeth. Unohana left, closing the door behind her and left Ichimin to rot in a Fourth room for God knows how long.

'_Goddammit. She knows how much I fucking hate it here. Damn woman.'_

"God, I'm going to die here."

__

A week later, and Ichimin was sitting up in bed, rolling her arm in its socket. A long scar went across her shoulders, a new one sliced across her navel and right at her navel, and a dark area where Zaraki had gored her on his Zanpakuto. She had recovered nicely, and with more persuasion (bitching and moaning nonstop), they had agreed to let her out early if she didn't show up again in the next ten minutes.

"God, finally they're letting me out."

_'About goddamn time.'_

Ichimin stood, cracking her neck before grabbing the paperwork of eternity and heading out the door. She smiled and waved to everyone that did the same to her, while silently cursing every single one of them. Twisting, she dodged that one kid Hanatarou without losing pace and kept on going, right out the door.

"Oh, Kumorigachi-san."

A familiar voice spoke out right as she left the division building, and Ichimin looked over to see Aizen. Ichimin stood up a little straighter, smiling. She might as well act like she's happy to see him, and doesn't owe him.

"Captain Aizen, hello. What are you doing here?"

'_Getting a gerbil removed, perhaps?'_

Aizen smiled.

"I am here to speak with Captain Unohana on a small matter. In any case, what are you doing here?"

So the entire Seireitei didn't know how badly her ass was handed to her. Good.

"Oh, uh…eheheheh…I kind of…got in a fight with Captain Zaraki…"

She laughed nervously, as Aizen lost his smile for a surprised expression.

"With Captain Zaraki? How did that happen? Are you alright?"

Ichimin went to start explaining it off when pain surged through her torso. She laid a hand over it, wincing slightly. Aizen was already walking towards her with concern.

"No, Captain, I'm really fine…" She attempted to wave him off, before he tipped her head up and looked in her eyes.

"You don't look alright; you're in pain. Are you sure that you've healed sufficiently? Should I take you back in Fourth Division?"

At that suggestion Ichimin jerked away, staggering back a few steps.

"No no no no no no, Captain Aizen. That's REALLY not necessary…I've got some paperwork I know Lieutenant Nanao has for me, so I should REALLY be going…"

She attempted to walk past him, to Eighth when he stopped her gently.

"I don't think you're alright to start working again so soon. Have you eaten?"

Ichimin blinked, then shook her head a bit.

"Fourth division's food isn't exactly…you know…edible…"

She laid a hand on her stomach, aching from lack of food. She'd only eaten a bit in the last week, enough to make room on her plate and then she spread the food out on the tray to make it look like she ate more than she did. It worked perfectly. Aizen thought on it a moment, and then began walking past her, towards the divisions under fourth.

"Come along, Kumorigachi-san. We're going to get something to eat." He stated, still walking as he looked back.

"Sir, I really can't-"

"It's not a question, Kumorigachi-san." Aizen stated gently, smiling. He gestured out towards the divisions.

"It's an order."

Ichimin seriously thought upon arguing a bit more, but sighed audibly and gave up. Aizen smiled wider as she began walking slightly behind him, out of respect.

"That's better. Thank you for accompanying me, Kumorigachi-san."

Aizen spoke back to her with warmth in his voice. Ichimin smiled equally warmly, nodding her head a bit.

'_Fuck you, gay Superman slash human Barney.'_

"Of course, Captain."

Aizen lead her down the roads of Seireitei, stopping now and then to let her take a break and not tax herself with too much rigorous exercise after her encounter with the pointy end of Zaraki's Zanpakuto. The good Captain lead her to the gate to Rukongai, the two of them leaving for some of the better sectors of Rukongai.

"Uh…Captain Aizen…don't you have work?" Ichimin queried, remembering that paperwork conquest as of yet unfinished. One last signature, but if she let Aizen see her with the paper he might 'ask' her to give it to him instead. Such an ending could not occur.

"Oh, don't worry about my work. I have finished what needs to be done for today and most of what is needed tomorrow, so I have a bit of free time."

What sector were they in now? Ichimin had never been in one this nice. Always either memories of Seventy-Ninth, or drunkenness in the high districts where it was cheap as hell. This was at least in the twenties or below.

"Rukongai sector five. I have a favorite place to eat here; more for aspiring shinigami than the general populous, but they make out very well on my dinner bills."

Aizen narrated, leading her to a cozy looking café. The two of them stepped in, a greeting woman doing just that and leading Aizen to his own personal table, it seemed. They sat down and Aizen ordered tea for them both. Ichimin couldn't tell him that she wanted sake, and then be rude. Besides, from the class of this place she doubted they even had sake. Not the cheap shit she was used to, anyway. And she would assume that Aizen wouldn't quite appreciate watching her get piss faced tonight. Damn Fourth division, holding her there until nightfall. Probably to get her to go to bed and con her into sleeping a few more hours.

"Kumorigachi-san, how are you feeling exactly?" Aizen queried, waiting patiently for the tea. Ichimin blinked, coming back from her thoughts on how the lot of Fourth division were assholes and spoke.

"Oh, I'll be fine Captain. Just some scars." She stretched a bit in her seat, highly uncomfortable by the stares the two of them were getting. Godly shinigami descending on Rukongai. Though she had to admit, it was less than she had gotten on visits to districts upwards of the sixties, where shinigami were feared and hated. She noted Aizen looked worried, and waved it off.

"Really, Captain, I'll be fine."

_'Creepy much?'_

"Alright, if you insist." Aizen finally gave up, sighing a bit as the tea was set out in front of them. Aizen thanked the waitress; Ichimin gave a nod of her head to show the woman that she was acknowledged in some existent way. Taking up her cup, she sipped it and repressed the expression of agony that came thereafter.

_HOLY MOTHER OF GOD ITS LIKE LAVA_

She swallowed the boiling hot tea and for a moment, took the time to mourn what was left of her tongue. Aizen regained her attention by sipping the _tea with the temperature of an open fire_ as if it were pleasantly warm. What the hell.

"So, Kumorigachi-san, how long have you been in the Soul Society?"

It was a simple enough question. Ichimin nonchalantly sipped her tea again, ignoring the temperature to save face in front of Aizen.

"Going on three hundred years. Been a shinigami for two hundred fifty, give or take a few days." She answered leisurely, motioning towards the Captain with her teacup.

"Yourself?"

He smiled and laughed a bit.

"Well, I wouldn't want to say really. It'd make me feel…what you would say would be old."

_'__Nice question dodge.'_

The question was unanimously dropped in favor of friendly banter between the two of them, conversations on this and that which Ichimin didn't give a damn about. None of the things in Soul Society did she really give a fuck about; nothing, because she hated the people there. Rukongai residents were backstabbing creatures that would kill one another for a rotted potato. Shinigami? Well, they were the same except instead of potatoes, it was rank and power. Hated the lot of 'em.

The waitress returned fashionably late (not really, more like a half hour later) and took their orders. What Aizen got Ichimin didn't even listen to, more interested in what the hell most of the shit on the menu (they even had menus!) was. She finally agreed upon a particularly salty dish, needing to get some sort of sensation back into her tongue since it had been summarily scalded by the Tea From The Fiery Bowels Of Hell. The waitress took their orders and menus, moving to get them cooked while Ichimin noticed that Aizen was staring at something. On her.

"Hm. What?" She queried, leaning her chin in her hand. Aizen returned his eyes to hers, smiling.

"Oh, nothing really. Now, didn't you have some important paperwork worth dying for or something like that? How about you take a look at how close you are to finished? Might give you a life expectancy."

He joked, and Ichimin laughed fakely but convincingly as she pulled it out of her pocket. Examining the (bloodstained) document, she noted that there was only one name left and smiled at who it was.

"Well, Captain, I think you owe me for this date."

Aizen blinked, not getting it for a moment. He then laughed nervously.

"Really, Ichimin, I wouldn't call it a date. More or less a casual meeting for lunch between a Captain and a subordinate-"

A piece of paperwork was held in his face. The last blank: Captain of Fifth Division. Sosuke Aizen. Said Captain blinked at the blank on the paper, before leaning back in his seat with a smile.

"Well, if you're going that route, then you owe me more for this 'date'."

Ichimin blanched at the implications; Aizen noticed them right as he had said that last statement and waved his hands a small bit in a 'no' motion.

"No, no. I didn't mean it in that way. I merely wanted you to walk with me a bit, back to my division. Nothing more than that, honestly."

Ichimin laughed a bit, honestly amused by his reaction. She waved her hand side to side a bit as she laughed very lightly.

"Don't worry, don't worry Captain. I know you're not that kind of guy; you're too nice to be like that."

She wasn't looking at his face and missed that small semblance of a bit of cold humor before it was gone, and she looked back to his eyes. They were warm with amusement.

"Well, that's good. I hope you don't think I'm that sort of man."

The general air of 'You're a Captain, I'm a subordinate' lessened and eventually dissipated as the two continued to talk, finding common ground on various topics. And when the food arrived, Ichimin dug into hers while Aizen watched in disconnected surprise as she practically inhaled her food, obviously going much too fast for any normal person. One choking episode later, a glass of tea and she was eating her food slower, but still quicker than what is considered normal. She turned her eyes to Aizen now, looking for some sort of disgust on her eating, which she had just realized to be incredibly rude. Aizen just smiled, eating his food at a normal rate and watching her go.

"So tell me, Captain. Do you drink?"

Honest enough question. Aizen thought on it a moment before answering.

"I consider myself a casual drinker. More at special occasions than anything else."

He glanced to her now, as she drank her tea without restraint now that it was cooled somewhat.

"And yourself?"

Ichimin laughed a bit, putting her tea glass down for a refill.

"Well…you could consider me an…alcoholic…"

She wasn't going to sugarcoat it; the woman couldn't go about her day-to-day life without being wasted at least half of the time and getting that numb happiness so vacant from her normal routine. Aizen didn't seem perturbed at all by the idea.  
"Well, a good deal of people in the Seireitei are heavy drinkers-"

"No sir, you don't see. I literally black out at least three times a week."

Ichimin cut off Aizen's casual dismissal and watched him raise his eyebrows at the lovely fact of her addiction. She herself was happy that she said three instead of the truer number of five a week. Yeesh.

"Well, I'm sure that you have a good reason for it and it doesn't seem to affect your shinigami duties, so I don't see what the problem could be."

Ichimin's turn to raise her eyebrows at the casual statement; most people were very much not compliant with accepting an admitted alcoholic so easily. Aizen was quickly becoming one of her favorite shinigami around just by how accepting he was. Well, Kyoraku wasn't one to judge on alcoholism but then again, it WAS Kyoraku after all.

"Well…thank you Captain. That's very kind of you to say." The female shinigami stated, attempting to be nonchalant about how kind she thought he was being. Aizen merely smiled, setting his empty dish on top of hers and putting them to the side of the table. Ichimin snatched the bill before Aizen could get a hold of it, right out of the waitress's fingers even. Reading it, she realized that there was no way she could afford it after that giving stunt with the Rukon kids the other day. Laughing nervously, she slid it across the table to a smiling Aizen while he put it on his tab. She grabbed and downed her tea before they left, like a child grabbing at the leftover food on the table so they could eat the last bits before leaving a restaurant.

"Well…thank you for dinner, Captain." Ichimin thanked the taller Captain as the two of them left the café, now heading back to Seireitei. Aizen looked at her and smiled, as the two were let back into Seireitei.

"Don't worry about it, Kumorigachi-san. It was really my pleasure."

He began to lead her without giving a word about it, and she just followed at his heels like some lost puppy. Surprised that she felt this contented, and wasn't even drunk. Hadn't had a sip of sake in a…week, actually. Right about now, in any other situation, she'd be nuking her liver to see how far the organ would take her before it just offed itself and took her with it.

"Well, I still feel kind of bad for not helping with the check…" She mumbled, not too guilty but guilty enough. It made her feel so incapable when someone else had to pay the entire meal and she couldn't even chip in. Aizen smiled over his shoulder, at Ichimin.

"Then why don't you sit with me a bit as payment to take the guilt away? I don't quite want to go back to my division and do paperwork for the entire night. I'm sure you feel the same."

Aizen's female companion laughed and nodded a bit, thoroughly not ecstatic that she would have to do a week's work of paperwork when she got back to her division. Aizen was there a moment and in the next, Ichimin was following thin air. She glanced around, finally seeing Aizen on a rooftop behind her after he called her name.

"Kumorigachi-san, up here please."

He was waiting on her, as if she were so very slow to him. Sighing, Ichimin shunpo'd to the roof near Aizen, and followed him in subsequent shunpo across the rooftops to stop at the top of the Fifth division building's roof. Aizen sat down, and Ichimin sat down next to him with a respectable distance between them. They relaxed; it was a warm night. Soon, very soon it would become cold and the roofs would be topped with ice. Only one person in Seireitei would be able to wander around comfortably then, and he was the Tenth division's Captain. Of course he'd be able to wander around.

"Ichimin, how did you get that scar across your throat?"

If the use of her first name with no honorifics wasn't jarring enough, he goes straight to the topic she avoided the most. Dammit, this is why she used concealer. Rubbing the scar nervously, she looked down at her hand in her lap, silent for a long while.

"…If you don't want to tell me, that's perfectly fine." He reassured, kind and calming as he always was. Like a fatherly figure of Seireitei, the motherly figure being Unohana. In fact, all the Captains were like one big insane family of epic death.

Ichimaru was the creepy boyfriend of your sister's, and Matsumoto was that awesome sister. Yamamoto was the hard-to-please grandfather, Kyoraku was that awesome uncle that took you out to get beer and then go get tattoos on a bender of epic proportions. Ukitake was the other uncle, the one that showered you with candy but was otherwise calm and nice and that balanced out Kyoraku uncle's awesome wildness. Soi Fon was that sister that was a total bitch, the older sister that you completely hated, while Byakuya Kuchiki was your perfect in every way brother that pissed you off to no end with his constant condescending fuckery. Komamura was a distant uncle that you never talked to because it was creepy and you had nothing in common. Tousen was the equivalent of a bible beating cousin: creepy, and you never wanted to be alone in a room with him. Hitsugaya was that cousin who's better than you in every single way. Except prettiness. That goes to Byakuya. Kenpachi was the crazy uncle in the sense of throwing a person in a lake to teach them how to swim, or beating the shit out of you to teach you how to fight. Or get off on your pain. Whichever suited the situation, really. And Kurotsuchi was that uncle that stared at you real weird, that really creepy uncle that nobody ever wanted to be around but always invited you to come inside his house and stay the night. Freaky as hell family of fuckery, Ichimin had decided.

Her attention was drawn back to a very patiently waiting Aizen, and she finally dropped her hand from rubbing the scar.

"Well…you know how random the district sorting is for new souls. I was a kid when I was alive, apparently, and died. Well, I got sorted into Seventy-Ninth. Not a real nice place to grow up from four. As close to Hell as you can get without going there. Anyway, angst aside, I was a thief. I had this habit of waiting for other kids to charm a shopkeeper into distraction and send their own man out to get water or food, and snatch it before they could get their hands on it. Earned me a lot of enemies, and this was at the age of six. Most of the other older kids were blamed for it when I got away as that little brat wandering around all the time."

Aizen nodded, keeping up with the story thus far. She never doubted that he could.  
"Well…one day, when I was around six or so, I was out and about on another one of my 'swoop and snatch' missions to take food away from the hard working thief populous. It worked flawlessly; I got away with some candy this time. Real treat, candy is in Seventy-Ninth. So, I'm walking to my hideout with it when someone grabs me from behind because I'm busy marveling over the goddamn awesome candy. It was real quick, no movement beyond this real quick jerk across my neck and the candy being torn away from me. I realize that my throat's cut and I stagger away, and when I look back I catch the peripheral glance of some kid in torn clothes running off. Don't know who he was, but I'm busy bleeding out on myself so I'm not particularly worried."

At this point, Aizen was getting that 'You poor thing' look on his face, and Ichimin hated that. It wasn't like telling the story was painful; she told it to drinking buddies when she went on major bar crawls. Something that happened and that she survived, nothing traumatic.

"Anyway, a Fourth division hopeful found me in some sorta gutter and fixed me up. Miracle I lived, but then again, shit like that happens all the time in Seventy-Ninth. Nothing groundbreaking, Captain."

She assured, and looked back to Aizen. He was now looking up to the moon, hanging in the sky. She followed his gaze to the moon, her arms loosely wrapped around her knees.

"Ichimin, why are you so very nonchalant about something of such gravity?" He asked, not moving his eyes from the moon.

"Because it doesn't matter. It happened, it's over. I'm a shinigami now, and what happened in Seventy-Ninth doesn't and shouldn't hold any weight over what I do three hundred years later."

She looked back to Aizen, as he laid a hand on her shoulder. Touching; she most often hated people touching her. But with Aizen, she found that she didn't care all too much. He was a friend, another one to add to her small friendship group.

"Ichimin, you know that I'm always here if you ever need to talk."

His eyes were very warm, absolutely serious. Ichimin felt an odd flushing of her face, some alien sensation that she wasn't all too familiar with. She reached up, laying a hand on his in some attempt to assure him of her truthfulness.

"Of course, Captain Aizen. I'll be sure to come to you if I ever need to talk to someone."

Aizen smiled, and Ichimin smiled as well. As he removed his hand, Ichimin dropped hers and laughed a bit. Aizen looked confused at the laughing for a moment, as Ichimin continued laughing and laughing. She slowed down enough to speak, looking at Aizen again.

"I'm sorry Captain, but with my history of people this is just cosmically ironic."

He then smiled, chuckling a bit.

"I'm sure that it is. But now, it's getting quite late. I assume you agree?"

Ichimin blinked, noticing that it was getting a bit light on the horizon. She sighed depressedly, knowing the paperwork to come when she got home. But she was tired, so maybe the lazy shinigami could put it off until the morning.

"Yeah, it is getting pretty late. Since you're already back at your division, I guess I'll head back to mine now."

She stood, preparing to shunpo back to Eighth division when a hand caught hers. She looked back to Aizen, who had stood as she did and was now holding her there. With a smile, he plucked the unsigned paperwork from her pocket and signed it with a stray pen he had on him. Folding it up neatly, he held it out to her.

"Ichimin, this was fun. I would like to do it again sometime, if you would indulge me."

Ichimin looked at the paper and then laughed nervously, taking it and placing it back in her pocket. He still had her hand, and she wasn't pulling away.

"Y…yes, I would like that. Very much."

Aizen smiled to Ichimin, who was once again blushing at the odd sort of touching that normally none were allowed. Gin didn't even get his hands on her for more than a moment or two because he knew how much she hated being touched.

Aizen released her hand and stepped back, Ichimin letting it fall to her side limply.

"Goodnight, Ichimin." Aizen spoke as he shunpo'd to the ground and waved to her. Ichimin waved back down to him, smiling.

"Goodnight, Captain Aizen."

She spoke with a smile, as he turned and disappeared into the Fifth division building. Ichimin smiled after him, shunpoing off towards Eighth division by building. And she wasn't even wasted at that moment. Dropping down in front of Eighth division, she entered and snuck by Nanao and Kyoraku, who surprisingly enough wasn't drunk. Slipping into her office and ignoring the towering stack of paperwork to place the finished bloody Captain signature page in the out box before sprawling out on her futon, soon after falling dead asleep.

**((Note: Writing this chapter while listening to 'Sexyback' is not a good idea and makes the writer feel incredibly stupid. I suggest you listen to it while reading, for added hilarity. Anyway, first starts on the main pairing come in chapter six. As you can see, it's going to be a long story because I'm very inclined to move slowly and don't want to screw up anything in this story. Sorry for the delay guys, but it's a long one so…yah. Toodles!!))**


	7. Let's Get Wasted, The Redux

**((AN: Chapter seven already. Well, I can safely say that this is going to be rather angsty later on at the big betrayal scene. But angst is good in moderate doses; we're going to be fine, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, moving along.))**

**

* * *

  
**

The next few days after the day she was released from Fourth division, Ichimin continually found that she was thinking back to the dinner with Aizen. She had enjoyed it very much; the Captain was a man that was easy to be around, and the two of them seemed to agree on a lot of things. He listened to her when she spoke, was genuinely interested in what she had to say instead of being more preoccupied with getting in her pants. She liked that about him.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi." A voice cut her thoughts and Ichimin moved to look up from what paperwork she hadn't been doing earlier. Paperwork paperwork paperwork. All she did anymore was paperwork. How long had it been since she had an actual field mission?

"Hai, Lieutenant Nanao?"

It was more of instinct for her to say Nanao's name when she couldn't fully hear the owner of the voice. Nanao was the only one that ever came in her office that called her by her rank. She looked up and instead saw her Captain, Kyoraku, smiling genially at her from the doorway. Ichimin straightened up a bit. Kyoraku was lazy, but he was a good man. Besides, who was she to talk about his drinking anyway?

"Hey, hey. Do I look like my darling Nanao-chan?"

Ichimin ignored the addition of –chan, knowing that Kyoraku was probably going to get it later for that and nodded her head respectfully.

"Forgive me, Captain. Force of habit."

Her paperwork was once again in the process of being done. Three days since she had been released from Fourth, and she was still catching up on her paperwork. The Captain of Eighth glanced over her paperwork, and Ichimin blinked. Was something wrong with it?

"C'mon Ichimin-chan (Goddammit), ya can't be wasting your life doing nothing but paperwork." Kyoraku stated, leaning against the doorframe. Fuck dammit, did she hate it when he called her that. Ichimin sighed, smiling a bit to mask her thoughts.

"Well _someone_ needs to be doing it around here. Someone other than Lieutenant Nanao, anyway."

'_Because you're a lazy fuck that doesn't do shit around here other than chase women and get piss-faced.'_

Kyoraku frowned a bit, as if the statement hurt him.

"Aw, that hit hard. I work…" He trailed off, and Ichimin stacked her papers in the 'done' box.

"Yes sir, you do maybe a couple sheets a week. Lieutenant Nanao and I do most likely around fifty a day. Without breaks."

She looked at her remaining papers. Not too many; she could get away with a break if Kyoraku let her. The Captain himself smiled and pulled his hat over his eyes.

"Well, I might not do the paperwork but I'd be no good at it anyway. I'm the pretty face that represents the hard-working individuals in Eighth division."

Ichimin laughed a bit, standing and stretching out.

"Of course, of course. Because this division needs an Adonis like yourself to show the other divisions what a division should look like."

She glanced to the side, seeing her Zanpakuto leaning against the wall. Black sheath, canary yellow oval guard and white hilt. She hadn't used it in a long time, because no one decided to send a bored Fifth seat out on a patrol mission. Too long since she'd actually fought a hollow. Kyoraku laughed a bit and nodded, turning in the doorway.

"Well, don't work too hard or this Adonis might have to have a worked-to-death Fifth seat dragged off. Be a shame since you survived a spar with Captain Zaraki and all."

Ichimin sighed, shaking her head a bit.

"Not a spar. When someone spars, they usually don't actively attempt to kill the other person."

She heard the lazy Captain laugh and looked up to see him wave over his shoulder as he left.

"Go have a drink or something; you've been doing paperwork for three days now."

The parting statement made the Fifth seat think. She was planning on just getting something light to eat (like godly watermelon) and then come back to finish her paperwork off for good, but where was the fun in that? And if she finished it off, then what the hell else would she do for the rest of the eternity she had waiting for a mission?

"Yeah…yeah, I think I will." Ichimin said to herself, Kyoraku long gone. Yawning a bit, she stretched her arms over her head before slipping out the door and locking it behind her. She quickly left the division, hunting for someone to drink with. Hadn't the slightest clue who to go to, but eh. She'd find someone. Staring up at the setting skies, she yawned a bit and then kept her green eyes focused in a dreamy stare at nothing in particular.

"How hard can it be to find someone who feels like getting drunk?"

Turns out, it's pretty hard.

'_GOD. Abarai's got too much paperwork because he's a lazy ass that never does it otherwise, Kira has to catch up on the work Gin shoveed on him, Momo's fretting over getting work done for 'OMG CAPTAIN AIZEN', and I'm never drinking alone with Madarame ever again, after that one morning. And he'll only go drinking if it's with Ayasegawa and that psychopath Zaraki, and they'll be serving snowcones in Hell at half price before I'm drinking with him and dealing with a drunk Zaraki. Sober Zaraki's bad enough.'_

Ichimin sighed audibly, stopping to thud her head against the wall of Third division. Just shot down by Kira; who in the hell was left. Maybe she wouldn't go drinking tonight; maybe they'd be freer tomorrow night. It was already dark and all; seriously doubt she coul-

"Wassap Ichi?"

A slick voice spoke out right behind her and the woman in question jumped, succeeding in smacking her head on the stone of the building. Swearing under her breath, she turned to crane her neck and look up at Gin Ichimaru, grinning down on her. As if he had any other sort of facial expression.

"You're an asshole, Captain. Forgive the rudeness."

The last part was added just to add salt to the insult. Gin looked subtly amused.

"None taken. Now, Izuru been tellin' me that ya don't got nobody to drink wi'."

He stepped around her to lean against the building, looking especially menacing in the low light. Ichimin ignored the urge to rub her head where she'd smacked it, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah. Don't tell me you want to go; you're a Captain."

Gin was much taller than Ichimin was, so he was perfectly able to stare down on her like a grinning skyscraper.

"An' that means I ain't allowed t' go an' have fun?"

His question was rhetorical; Ichimin shrugged a bit.

"Well, thought you might have the kindness of your heart to go help Lieutenant Kira finish all that work he's doing for you. But then I remembered, 'Hey, wait a minute. This is Gin Ichimaru. He has no soul, so it's cool'."

Gin himself grinned a bit wider at the statement, turning on his heel and beginning to walk with no explanation of where they were going.

"Got that right. Now, lessgo."

Ichimin blinked, before having to run after the Captain. His long strides were a little more difficult for a normal human to keep up with, and so Ichimin had to speedwalk/jog to keep up.

"Where're we going, Captain?" She asked him, not really expecting all too descriptive of an answer. Gin just tossed a wave over his shoulder.

"You'll find out."

The Fifth seat sighed, but remained quiet and followed the Captain to a small bar in Seireitei. Bars did exist within Seireitei for the people who couldn't be bothered to head into Rukongai for cheaper swill. They were just uncommon to find.

"C'mon, c'mon."

Gin waved her inside and picked a table for them, ordering a healthy amount of the woman's very lifeblood. The both of them poured glasses and Ichimin held up hers in a toast.

"I hope it stays dark forever, I hope the worst isn't over, I hope you blink before I do, and I hope I never get sober."

The soft clinking of their glasses; Ichimin tipped hers back and finished it at that moment, as was her custom. The rest would be sipped until she became so drunk that they turned into gulps and then she'd just go for the bottle itself. Gin had drank with her before; he was apparently prepared for her drunk verbal abuse. Though it didn't come for awhile; for the longest time the two just chatted, talking about this and that. And by 'chatting', it means 'viciously making fun of'.

"An' Izuru jus' had this fashe…it looked all 'Fuck, whatsh did I DO'…wash hilarioush!" Ichimin slurred, laughing heartily. She was in her element; that degree of drunk where everything was happy and funny, and she didn't have to worry or think about anything other than getting the next drink. Gin had only been sipping; he drank enough to get a buzz and then kept watch on Ichimin to make sure she didn't just fall asleep on the table and get thrown out into the street at last call. Ichimin had her hands around the neck of the bottle when last call arrived. Gin tugged at her arm, gently.

"Come on Ichimin, 's time to go."

Ichimin rose to her feet and then staggered as she attempted to walk away from the table. The bottle was still in her steely grip, and the bartender just waved it off. Gin then walked out the door with Ichimin at his side, he having to keep a hold on her arm to make sure she didn't lose her balance and fall over. He wasn't having any problems holding onto her though, because she was clinging to him tightly. One arm locked around his, like steel.

"Sho where's we goin', Foxshy?" Ichimin slurred again, grinning. Gin let the nickname slip, because she was having such a good time and he knew that it didn't happen often when she could just enjoy life at that certain point of being drunk. He let her keep a vice grip on his left arm, leading her back towards Third division. He was now pondering if he could get away with this and that, turning a corner with Ichimin in tow to stop at seeing Aizen heading the same direction as he had left.

Ichimin, still in a deeply drunken state looked upon the confused-looking Aizen with an out of character grin.

"Hay Cap'n Aizen! Wasshup?"

She called to him waving, even though they were five feet away from each other. Aizen looked at her oddly and then looked to Gin, sharp suspicion in his eyes.

"What is the matter with her, Captain Ichimaru?"

Gin himself only grinned as usual, tugging Ichimin's clinginess into view.

"Jus' a bit of drinkin', Captain Aizen. But why're you so suspicious of me?"

Ichimin was looking back and forth between the both of them, listening to the exchange. She loosened her grip on Gin's arm slowly, attracting his attention only very slightly.

"You know perfectly well why I'm suspicious of you, Captain." Aizen shot back, the two continuing to stare each other down. Gin was about to speak when he noticed that Ichimin wasn't on his arm anymore but now staggering towards Aizen.

"Holy shit, it'sh Sherlock Holmesh! But doesh that mean that Foxshy wash…"

She was at Aizen's side now, smiling up at him before coming to some conclusion. She turned around, swaying slightly.

"Aw, you'sh a perveh foxshy!" She giggled, obviously beyond wasted. Aizen looked down on her before offering his hand.

"Why don't you come stay the night with me, Fifth seat? For your own safety of course; my intentions are far less insidious than what I suspect Captain Ichimaru's to be."

Gin merely shrugged, looking at Ichimin and Aizen.

"Fine, fine. If ya don't trust me, then stay the night with Cap'n Aizen. Be seein' ya, Ichi."

The fox-faced man turned on his heel, disappearing around the corner while Aizen looked to Ichimin.

"Ichimin, how much did you drink?" He queried, slightly worried. Ichimin herself just laughed.

"Jush' 'nough, Cap'n. Jush' 'nough." She patted his arm, before leaning on him.

"Ichimin, are you alright?" Aizen asked again, looking at her seriously this time as she leaned more on him.

"Yeah, I'll be…fine…" She mumbled, closing her eyes. Aizen merely scooped her up bridal style and began to shunpo back to the Fifth division. It was a relatively quick trip and he sidestepped Momo on the way, telling her that he had found Ichimin and that needed to sleep something off. Momo continued to fret, but left Aizen to put Ichimin down on the couch in his office. She laid as still as a stone as he began to lay her down, apparently having blacked out. As he moved to let her go and sit at his desk, she rolled over to face him and caught his sleeve gently.

"Sorry…Cap'n…" Ichimin mumbled, her eyes still closed and voice sort of muffled by her arm. The Fifth seat's dirty blond hair lay as a halo around her head, half over her face. Aizen blinked in somewhat surprise at the sudden action, but moved to lay the back of his hand against hers.

"It's alright, Ichimin." He spoke softly, and she smiled a bit at the contact. Her plain green eyes opened a small bit to look upon him, hand already slipping from its hold on his shihakusho sleeve.

"Thanks…I trust you."

And with that, she seemed to drift off to either sleep or a black out unconsciousness while her hand slipped completely and dropped to the floor.

Aizen, meanwhile, had lost the warm expression and was now staring down coldly at the unconscious woman. How the ditz even came to her position as a fifth seat, he could only attribute to the incompetence of the higher ups in her division.

'_A drunkard of Eighth division, certainly. Cut from the same cloth as Kyoraku.'_

She was constantly running around and putting herself in danger, acting like a drunk slut hanging off of Gin as she had been and basically not giving a damn about what happened as long as she had fun. She was his polar opposite in nearly every way, and he very much found her an annoyance in that respect.

…And yet…

Reaching forward, Aizen gently brushed back the hair out of her face. He knew that she wasn't Kyoraku, because she had some sort of purpose. Gin had been telling him all the secrets of everyone he knew, and Ichimin had been no exception once Aizen had met the woman. The scar on her neck? He had long already known of it and it's history. He knew her past in Rukongai, from what Gin had told him. He knew that she very much loathed shinigami in general and hated the entire society of hollow slayers that feast off of one another like stray dogs, use the bodies of former friends and allies as stepping stones to some meager position above their own. He even knew her Zanpakuto name and abilities. He knew everything of her and she knew absolutely nothing of the true him.

_'__She is a hazard. The logical choice of action would be to have someone kill her and keep her out of the way of my plans. Gin, possibly. Someone that knows her.'_

And when did he start wanting to kill off hazards by a close friend? A hollow killed in the exact same manner, and he had plenty of hollows to use. So why did the idea of allowing a hollow to devour her leave a bad taste in his mouth?

_'…I will decide what to do with her soon enough.'_

Aizen stepped back, removing his hand from her face and returned to his desk. The man had seen her at her most pathetic; he could see her at it right now. A drunkard sapping off of those that she called friends. But he had also seen her when she was sober and when she was happy. The night after she was released from Fourth after her fight with that insane berserker Zaraki. Ichimin had been pleasant and kind, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Aizen had had a good time. But what perturbed him the absolute most was not that he had had a good time; it was something else. His sharp eyes observed her from his seat at the desk in the corner of the room, paperwork sitting in front of him. Ichimin Kumorigachi may have loathed the shinigami, may have intimate knowledge of what they did to those beneath them and those weaker than themselves. But there was one small bit that she still didn't know.

"She is in good company."

* * *

**((I've been a bit preoccupied with schoolwork recently, but I should be updating all of my multi-chapter stories within the next few days. Hopefully, I won't have to go away this weekend and can finish up everything. And also:**

**During the summer, I lose my laptop because it's rented from the school. So updates are going to slow down unless I can get a hold of my sister's laptop. So just forewarning you guys: updates are going to slow down at the end of May.))**


	8. Victim of Circumstance

**((AN: Chapter eight…erm …I have nothing to say this chapter opening. Hn. That's quite odd.))**

A pounding in her head equal to the fiery wrath of a thousand suns; Ichimin opened her eyes and immediately regretted the action as the light seared her corneas. She hissed openly, rolling over to press her face into the material of the couch.  
_'Fuck damn motherfucking bitch ass whore-'_  
She opened her eyes again, slowly this time, to realize that some sort of material was over her like a blanket. Ignoring the pain of another hangover for that moment, she sat up to look down at it. A blanket. Where the hell was she, anyway?  
Glancing down, she saw a small piece of paper sitting neatly folded on the floor next to her. A note. Picking it up, she skimmed it quickly.

Dear Ichimin,

Last night I found you very intoxicated, and fearing that you would be taken advantage of I brought you back to Fifth division. Please take your time leaving; it is no trouble at all.

Captain Aizen

She dropped the letter back on the floor, groaning. Nanao was going to be livid. And why didn't Gin help her out? Wasn't he the one she was drinking with in the first damn place? She lay back down onto the couch, rolling onto her left side away from the door and curling up in the blanket. It was warm, and the scent of Aizen's subtle cologne was strangely calming to her. Vague memories of drinking with Gin, and seeing him smile down at her while she tipped back glass after glass. Fox-faced bastard never drank more than enough to get a buzz; kept him sharp enough to take advantage of the other drinkers.  
_'Probably what Aizen was talking about.'_  
The woman now sprawled, getting very comfortable in a new position on her side. She buried her face in the couch, cutting out all light or the very ability to see and listened to the sounds of birds and the movement of shinigami. How serene Fifth division was; around this time, you'd have been thwacked by Nanao for sleeping this long.

It was an hour or so after that when Ichimin finally moved to stand and get ready for Hell in Eighth Division, combing through her hair with her fingers in an attempt to fix it. She folded the blanket neatly and laid it on the couch, taking Aizen's note and stealing a pen from his desk in order to write her own note.

Thank you for watching out for me, Captain Aizen.

She heard someone coming towards the door and recognized the reiatsu of Momo Hinamori. If Momo got a hold of her, she'd never escape.  
_'Damn woman wouldn't do shit but fret and then tell me really fucking boring stories about 'OMG CAPTAIN AIZEN'.'_  
Only one chance for escape; Ichimin pulled the window open and dropped the two or so feet to the ground, closing the window before hiding in a flower bush as Momo opened the window to look around.  
"Where did Ichimin go? I was just about to tell her that funny thing that happened the other day…"  
The sound of the window closing sounded out, and a few minutes later Ichimin slipped away and began to shunpo back to her division. She hated listening to Momo. Hated even being around the woman. Just that constant adoration and slightly creepy obsession with her Captain was eerie, to say the least. And she just couldn't help but coddle her friends, and it drove Ichimin up the goddamn wall.  
She had slowed from her quick step to a slow, easy walk when someone blew past her. Renji, and he looked either worried or angry. She couldn't tell which.  
"Hey Renji, what's wrong?'  
She grabbed his arm as he went by, to make him answer her. He looked at her and jerked, pulling free.  
"It's Rukia. We had to bring her back from that mission she's been on and she's screwed up big time."  
Ichimin blinked. Now that he mentioned it, Rukia had been gone awhile hadn't she? Not that Ichimin really gave a damn; Byakuya didn't approve of them hanging out for reasons extremely obvious. Like the prettier version of Kurotsuchi. Not really all too much prettier; Ichimin had found out the one day when she had caught him in the shower that under his creepy clown mask and makeup, Kurotsuchi was just another guy that somebody with either a death wish or a masochistic streak might actually find attractive. Not her; the idea of even kissing the Captain gave her the chills. And not in the good excited way either; chills in the 'I think I may have just thrown up in my mouth a little bit' kind of way.  
She looked up to ask Renji what Rukia had done and saw that when she was having the Kurotsuchi episode, he had left her there. Now the Fifth seat had a moment to decide between going back to her division and keeping her nose in her own business, or doing the fun thing and going to see what kind of shit the Kuchiki princess had gotten herself into and how stick-up-the-ass Byakuya was handling it.  
_'Is it really even a question?'_  
She turned around and began to stalk Renji from a distance, hurrying up as he entered the sixth division headquarters. Could she get away with snooping around Sixth?  
"Oh well. Kuchiki can shove it if he doesn't like it."  
A shrug; she stepped into the Sixth division and immediately suppressed her reiatsu to the lowest she could; no use sneaking around if she wasn't at least going to try and be sneaky.  
_'Pretend you're that psychotic Captain of second, the ninja bitch Soi Fong. Be a make-believe ninja, Ichimin.'_  
And be a make-believe ninja she was, sneaking around in situations that she could be sneaky in and acting nonchalant in situations she had to be seen. The fifth seat sidestepped some guy running after a Hell butterfly in the hallways, and as she walked past, Ichimin could've sworn she heard something about a sexy lady butterfly with E cups behind her.  
_'…Kay then. Sixth division's just as creepy as all the other ones, I suppose."_

She came to the doors to the prisoner section of the division, and opened them up quickly. Staring inside, she saw a figure sitting in a chair in a cell, and didn't see anyone else in the room. Closing the door quietly, she crept up to the bars and tapped on them slightly to get the person's attention.

"Yo!" She whispered it as loud as she could, and saw Rukia turn around.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi. What are you doing here?" She asked curiously, and Ichimin pointed at her predicament.

"I could be asking the same thing, Rukia. What happened? Renji was having an episode when I saw him just a minute ago."

Rukia's eyes lowered, and Ichimin made sure that she looked sympathetic.

"I gave a human my powers."

_'You're so fucked.'_

"It's alright, Rukia. I'm sure you'll just get a slap on the wrists or something."

Ichimin was leaning close to the bars when she heard the door open behind her, and stared back to see Renji and Byakuya staring at her as well. She immediately straightened up, stepping back and bowing her head respectfully.

"What is your business here, Fifth seat." Byakuya ordered of her, and Ichimin straightened up.

"Merely speaking with an old friend, Captain."

It was almost funny how she didn't make up a good lie right there and just told the truth. Maybe she was in a bad mood. The more likely cause was a huge hangover that was probably really obvious.

Byakuya observed her a moment, before choosing to address the original objective of the visit. Ichimin watched as he delivered Rukia's fate onto her.

Death.

_'Wow, that's pretty damn harsh. And Sokyouku? Nobody below Captain level has ever gotten the Sokyouku.'_

Ichimin, who couldn't connect with the feelings Rukia and Renji were going through, mostly ignored the feeling of despair in the room. She wasn't empathetic; couldn't feel that kind of thing for other people. Especially the ones she hated. Renji, she hated. Byakuya she REALLY hated. Rukia wasn't so much hate as not knowing her too well. Just a natural distance between the family classes, more or less. Rukia and Byakuya were aristocrats, and Ichimin was what one could consider street-bred. The unwanted rats running around in Rukon, scrambling for some sort of sustenance to the powers that they can't understand. Rukia had known this, she had heard. And Renji had too. But it looked like those that had lived there now forgot about those in their same situation, only preoccupied with their own petty problems in Soul Society. Being a shinigami seemed to bring out some of the worst traits in people.

Rukia merely lowered her eyes at the sentencing, and Renji was flabbergasted.  
"W…what did you say, Captain Kuchiki?"  
Said blueblood merely closed his eyes.  
"I will not repeat myself again. Rukia Kuchiki, you will die in twenty days. This will be the last time I speak with you."  
He turned on his heel, walking away pointedly.  
"The next time we meet will be at the gallows."

Kuchiki left and Ichimin felt kind of awkward in the room. She could lie and say that she was sorry for Rukia, pretend to be like Renji. But Rukia was going to die; of all the things Ichimin could do, lying to a dead woman walking didn't seem like a good moral choice. So she instead watched Rukia turn around in her seat, and laid a hand on Renji's back for a brief moment as she followed Byakuya out the door.

Really, it was a pretty nice day all and all. Sun shining, blue sky, birds doing their chirping thing. Except for Rukia's death sentence, it was a really nice day. And so Ichimin decided to do something stupid; she decided to ghost Byakuya Kuchiki's steps. Stalking, in a sense. Well, not really; stalkers usually wanted something from the stalk-ees, and Ichimin would rather use an ice cream spoon to scoop out her left eye than sleep with Kuchiki. Pretty man, yes, but emotionally retarded. Plus, he was a dick to her. Probably because of her lower social status and her not being able to go to fancy parties.

She had been stalking him for a while now, and only stopped when she saw two other people in front of him. Two other Captains, to be precise. Gin Ichimaru and Kenpachi Zaraki. She hid behind a building, mostly to keep out of sight. The three bantered (well, not really banter considering Kuchiki), more or less Ichimaru taunting Byakuya while Zaraki, the psychopath, offered to kill Rukia before the execution day. Right about where they were going to kill each other, it seemed, Ichimin lost her balance (hangover effect) and stumbled out of her hiding place, gaining the attention of Byakuya only briefly, whilst Zaraki ignored her completely. Gin waved. Ichimin caught herself on the railing a few feet away from them, and couldn't help but wave back.  
"You wanna test me?" Zaraki challenged, stepping forward towards Kuchiki. Said stoic Captain stared Zaraki down.  
"Do you want to be tested?"  
Ichimin stepped forward to try and mediate in some way or another, not wanting to be caught in the reiatsu crossfire and opened her mouth to speak when something bound her tightly and the entire world went wildly off-kilter. She was dragged quickly across some distance before they stopped and Ichimin finally figured out that Gin had used some sort of binding Kido to ensnare herself and Zaraki, and was currently holding them hostage on a roof a good, safe distance from Byakuya.  
_'Oh thank God. Wait, why the fuck did he need to drag ME off too??'_  
Zaraki was yelling at Gin about wanting to cut Byakuya, and Gin waved a goodbye to the noble Kuchiki.  
"Sorry for that one, Cap'n Kuchiki; didn't mean 'ta antagonize ya. Give my regards to the little sister."  
And with that cheeky parting blow, Gin shunpo'd off and dragged his two captives away from the powder keg situation.  
"Hey Captain Ichimaru; did I REALLY need to be restrained too??"  
Ichimin shouted to him, amid the profuse swearing of Zaraki and all manner of names about what sort of shit he was going to do to the fox-faced Captain if the bastard didn't put him down at that second.  
"Nah, prolly not."  
Gin called back to her, before stopping quite suddenly. Zaraki was no good in kido, or hado or anything that wasn't hitting something with the pointy end of a sword until it was dead. So he wouldn't exactly be able to escape a binding Kido so very easily, especially if Gin used a powerful one. Which, by attempting to overpower the kido with her reiatsu, Ichimin found to be apparently true.  
"Alrigh', alrigh'. I'll let ya down now." Gin finally gave in to the prolific swearing and threats of maiming from Zaraki, leaning over a roof and dragging both his captives high into the air off the ground. He dropped the Captain off in the courtyard of Eleventh, much to the dismay of random bystanders (members of Eleventh division sitting around or sparring) to see their Captain dropped off bound by one Gin Ichimaru, token creepy fuck of Seireitei and currently the captor of that one bitch that got her ass kicked by Zaraki the other day. Said ass-kicked bitch was now flailing a bit, attempting to get free.  
"Come ON Captain, I've got things I need to take care of!"  
Ichimin shouted up to him, as she was hanging precariously off of a roof around fifteen feet off the ground. Gin stared down at her, before his smile widened maliciously.  
"Can't be lettin' ya off here, can I? You're not in Eleventh, last I checked."  
Before she could speak, he was shunpoing off again and she was being dragged along with him. They continued on in this way for a while, heading off to somewhere Ichimin didn't know of and Gin wasn't telling about. He dragged her across rooftops that were particularly high up; this was making her quite nervous, for being the one hanging off of rooftops around ten to fifteen feet up while bound and immobile.  
"Captain, can we-"  
It was right about then that the cloth-like material wrapping her up tore right at the part he was holding, and Ichimin plummeted the fifteen feet from the ground she was currently suspended above. Gin looked back down at her as she fell, and, being unable to escape the expert Kido, slammed flat on her back, her head colliding with the ground first. She didn't move, and Gin leaned down further from his rooftop position to see if his job had been done correctly.

Catch Ichimin, cause her to die in some sort of situation that could be attributed to her own fault, cover it up as a freak accident caused by her being intoxicated from the night before. Open and closed case. Aizen had been planning it for a few days now, from where he had Gin take Ichimin out for drinking to cause the 'accident' the next day. Sure, Gin felt a little bad for having to do it but those kinds of feelings faded pretty quickly, he'd found.

Shunpoing down, Gin unbound the Kido and tore away the cloth and looked over Ichimin. Blood was pooling around her head like a halo; she looked pretty dead. It was nearly time; he felt Aizen's reiatsu approaching for the scheduled 'finding' of Ichimin, and hid the shreds of Kido binding cloth under his shihakusho as he shunpoed away quickly, leaving Ichimin behind. It all worked out perfectly, as Gin briefly passed Aizen as each went on their separate ways. Aizen turned the corner, became alarmed at seeing Ichimin and rushed over. Even through his gentle shakes and calls of her name, he was assessing whether she was dead or not. Apparently not, because he could see her chest rising and falling very shallowly.

Aizen scooped her up (hopefully for the last time) and began to shunpo towards Fourth division. Fourth was getting a whole lot of business from this one woman recently; it wouldn't be suspicious at all for Aizen to bring her in for another visit. The Captain moved quickly, and arrived at Fourth only to be descended upon and have Ichimin dragged away for emergency treatment. As they were taking her from his arms, they had to pull a bit because in her catatonic state, Ichimin had taken hold of Aizen's shihakusho front and hadn't wanted to let go.

Unohana came to speak with Aizen on what he had seen personally, and he simply told her that he had found Ichimin lying in the street with a head wound. They spoke and Unohana took the story, putting it down as an accident while the Fourth divisioners began to try and treat Ichimin. Aizen was free to go.

Said Captain strode out of Fourth division, keeping the worried look on his face. In reality, he was both confident he made the right decision and somewhat unwilling to saying so. She hadn't really been that much of a threat, more of an annoyance than anything dangerous to him. There might have been some other route of action that wouldn't have warranted her death, wouldn't get all the drama that this would.  
_  
'It was the correct decision. She will most likely die, and in the event that she does not, it will be excessively easy to kill her off after that. Though we may have to wait a bit in the unlikely even that she does recover, for suspicion on multiple attempts on the same life. Possibly a hollow attack could facilitate this.'_  
Aizen looked to the sky and noted that it was beginning to get dark. Rukia was in his grasp again, and soon enough would be executed by Sokyouku after the substitute shinigami no doubt made a rescue attempt from Kisuke Urahara's base of works in Rukongai. Once he staged his own death, it would just be a matter of waiting and watching. He wasn't excessively happy about the latest events though. The notion that he had probably killed Ichimin was a fact that he didn't all too much enjoy.  
"Hay Cap'n Aizen." Gin drawled from his position leaning against the wall ahead of Aizen. The brunette man looked over to his fellow Captain and saw that the man had no real regrets about killing a woman that trusted him with her life. He smiled the same as always, the permanent grin that unnerved many and was tolerated by the rest. Aizen masked his thoughts with a casual smile.  
"Greetings, Captain Ichimaru. And tell me, have you heard about the Fifth seat of Eighth division? I found her earlier; just a horrific sight to see."  
The two of them were in an isolated area designated for meetings of the brief sort, nothing implicating was ever said or hinted to and nothing could ever be turned against them here. Gin smiled a bit wider.  
"Ah, yes. Poor thing, falling off of a building like that."  
They shared their little inside joke, even though Aizen found no humor in it.  
"You are quite the cold man, Captain Ichimaru. How long did you know her?"  
Aizen crossed his arms to keep them safe from the autumn wind's chilly bite. Gin moved from leaning, standing up straight.  
"Century 'r two. Nothing big; just an acquaintance, really."  
Gin was entirely too nonchalant to have probable reason to believe that he assisted in the murder of what was apparently to him a mere acquaintance. Quite the man.  
"I wonder how Lieutenant Matsumoto will take this then?" Aizen suggested in a somewhat distantly coy manner. Gin's smile twitched a bit, as if it were a repressed grimace at the idea.  
"I wonder."

Aizen was still thinking over the feeling of a heavy weight in his chest from the recent happenings, trying to disregard it, to insist to himself that she was nothing at all. He turned, casting a glance back at Gin.  
"Let us go; Kaname is no doubt waiting on us."  
Amid a torrent of doubts; not of himself but of the woman undoubtedly dead at the moment, Aizen proceeded with Gin towards the Central forty-four building to continue their plotting.


	9. Rock Bottom

**((Oh gawd, the angst in this one. Well, everyone has their breaking point I suppose. Especially people repressing negative emotions for centuries. Anyway, if it's of any note, I've been listening to the wordless version of One by Apocalyptica. Really fits the angst part, and you'll know when that part starts.))**

**

* * *

  
**

It was from what felt like a very long nap that Ichimin finally awoke from, seeing the ceiling of a Fourth division hospital room. How did she get here? Closing her eyes again, she attempted to recall what had happened. Had she been fighting some sort of hollow? Been attacked again? She couldn't recall. It was as if some portion of her mind was wiped clean, and it infuriated her.

_'What the hell happened?'_

She rolled over with difficulty to face the door, her muscles stiff from disuse. Someone was in the room, and they were too busy to notice her movement. Ichimin caught sight of them in the corner, apparently getting out new dressings.

"…Hey…"

She rasped, and the figure turned to reveal that kid Hanatarou, now freaking out about Ichimin being awake.

"Y-you're conscious! With that sort of wound, we'd thought-"

Ichimin blew him off for the moment to reach up and touch her forehead, feeling something there.

"What wounds. What happened to me?"

She was demanding answers from him now, and the young man turned to the door.

"I-I've got to get Captain Unohana. She wanted someone to get her if you woke up."

'_If I woke up? If?'_

"Hey, don't-"

But he was already gone, and Ichimin was left to lay in bed and attempt to remember what she could. All she could recall was the meeting and sentencing of Rukia, and then walking…and that was it. There was a noticeable blank spot and it was pissing her off. And right when she was swearing under her breath for it, the figure of Fourth's Captain moved through the door to close it behind her softly.

"C…Captain Unohana."

Said woman turned at Ichimin's awkward mumblings, walking closer and looking her over.

"Hm…if you are awake, then I'll assume that you're going to recover."

She spoke, while taking a hard look at Ichimin's head. The Fifth seat growled.

"WHAT head wounds?!" She half-shouted, losing her temper. That was odd; she could normally keep it under rein so easy. Immediately, Ichimin realized what she had done and shook her head.

"S…sorry, Captain. I don't know what happened. I just want some information."

Unohana looked closer, before sitting down on the end of the bed.

"Apparently, you were traveling back to Eighth division still intoxicated from the night before. You were found in the street with a severe head injury, from what is assumed to be a fall. There were no witnesses to whether this is true or not, but it seems to be the most logical answer."

Ichimin was about to speak, but Unohana cut her off.

"Because you have regained consciousness, we will assume that you will recover near fully. But it was a serious injury; there will no doubt be some effects from it. They may be mild or severe; we will have to watch and see."

Ichimin blinked, now allowed to speak apparently.

"E…effects? What kind of effects would this have?"

She wasn't sure if she bought the fall story yet, but the Captain did and she WAS pretty drunk that night and was still seeing double when she was talking to Rukia. It made sense. But Ichimin had always had enough sense not to make deadly jumps when that level of drunk; it wasn't a level of drunkenness that she usually had accidents on. In fact, at what she had been when she fell, Ichimin was able to act and move like a sober person. Her thoughts and vision were just fucked up for awhile.

"Kumorigachi."

Ichimin redirected her attention to Unohana, who was waiting very patiently for the return of Ichimin's attention to her. Now that she had it, the older woman smiled kindly.

"Don't worry. It's nothing life threatening and injuries like this usually don't have major consequences or effects on later life. Over time, you'll heal up and if you've developed any kind of new tics or quirks, there's a high probability that they will disappear with age."

Ichimin smiled a bit at this reassurance, brushing her hair back.

"Thank you Captain. But really, I actually feel fine. May I return to work and come back if any sort of complications develop?"

She asked, smiling. Unohana thought on it a long while, before sighing and nodding a bit.

"Yes, I suppose that it couldn't really hurt, could it? I couldn't rein you in anyway without effort that needs to be directed to new arrivals."

Ichimin smiled, jumping out of bed and heading for the door. She slowed to a stop before looking back to Unohana.

"Um…how long have I been out?" She queried, looking a little embarrassed to be asking.

"Three days."

Unohana responded, already walking past her. Ichimin blinked, before groaning aloud.

"Lieutenant Nanao's gonna kill me."

* * *

Lieutenant Nanao did indeed nearly kill her.

"Fifth seat Kumorigachi. Your recent times have been spent mainly in Fourth division, and mainly from fault of your own!"

Ichimin was standing before Nanao, head bowed as if in penitence. At the last statement she moved to open her mouth and argue but was cut off.

"That includes the fight with Captain Zaraki!"

Ichimin sighed, closing her mouth and hanging her head a bit all over again. Apparently, Kyoraku was too much of a nice guy to do this and just let Nanao do it for him. Lazy bastard.

"…I'm sorry, Kumorigachi, but I have no option."

The sentence stuck out in Ichimin's mind and she shot her head up, arguing.

"Lieutenant Captain, please, there's no reason to go to those kind of measures-"

She looked genuinely apologetic, terrified of what was to come, but Nanao merely closed her eyes and pressed out the feeling of pity.

"You are being demoted to an unranked member. If you at some point in time can control the rampant drinking problem that is causing every problem you're having, then maybe you can have your position back someday."

The decision struck hard upon Nanao to deliver. Ichimin wasn't a bad shinigami; she just wasn't as adept at handling her alcoholism as some other members of Eighth division were. She was irresponsible at times, and at others she was wonderful. Kumorigachi just couldn't push her disdain for the entire system aside enough to serve with semi-loyalty, and so she drank heavily. That escape mechanism had cost the now-unranked shinigami her title and position.

"…I'm sorry, Kumorigachi." She repeated, opening her eyes to look upon Ichimin. It was an understatement to say that she looked crestfallen; the woman looked far beyond miserable. She looked absolutely humiliated, dejected. At the final apology, Ichimin didn't respond immediately but instead turned around, walking slowly towards the door.

"No fault of yours, Lieutenant."

Nanao noted how very dull and toneless her voice was. She attempted to push it aside and continue on working.

"You will need to move your things to the barracks then."

Ichimin didn't look back as she turned the corner of the door, moving past a sympathetic looking Kyoraku without so much as recognizing his existence.

"Nothing to move out of the room except empty sake bottles and paperwork."

* * *

She was gone, and Kyoraku glanced over to Nanao.

"For the best, Nanao. She can't handle this job right now; we need someone more capable of it. Girl's got too many demons to deal with."

Nanao ignored his comment for the most part, shuffling the already-done paperwork to strip Ichimin of her title.

"I know that. Her alcoholism is going to kill her in the end, with all the near-death experiences she's having lately. This last fall makes the second."

She stated shortly. Kyoraku moved to sit at the desk, his hat falling in front of his eyes as he did.

"Third. Those two that nearly got her awhile back were gonna kill her; someone overheard them complaining to each other about Aizen interfering."

Nanao sighed, letting the paperwork alone for a moment.

"…I'm worried. About her mental state right now."

Kyoraku bumped his hat up so that he could look at his Lieutenant.

"Mm? You think she's going to do something…drastic?"

The word choice was vague but the implications were very vivid. They were pondering if she was going to 'fall' off of a building again and land on her neck this time. Or her Zanpakuto.

"I'd like to say no…but we just can't predict what she'll do. The normal Kumorigachi isn't one to go the easy way out, but a drunk Kumorigachi just might."

The two remained silent for a moment, before Nanao looked to her Captain.

"Should we put her in the Fourth division suicide watch?"

She suggested, but Kyoraku waved the suggestion off.

"No. We'll watch her and see if she's acting funny enough, before we go to such extreme measures."

He stood again, messing with his hat.

"Anyway, let's get off the topic."

He turned around, reaching for Nanao.

"My Nanao-chan is worried about someone~"

He said in a 'that's so adorable' way, before catching a black binder in the head.

"That's not cute, Captain. Now, don't you have paperwork to be doing at this moment? If you're so very worried about Ichimin, why don't you do hers?"

Kyoraku flounced towards the door, in an attempt to escape Nanao and the deadly paperwork of doom.

"But there's so much sunshine outside!"

Nanao gave chase, heading after the flowery flamboyant man.

"It's nighttime!!"

She called, annoyed. All the reply she got before losing the Captain and beginning to track him was one small sentence.

"Same difference, my lovely Nanao-chan…"

* * *

Aizen was currently on a walk through Rukon, because he would be left alone there from fear. He had found that Ichimin survived the fall and was reasonably pissed off. But for Aizen, that was internal; he remained calm and smiling even though he was already creating another plan to do away with her. Possibly, he could wait until she was put on a mission and then have hollows swarm her…there was always the method of using Kyoka Suigetsu to create the illusion to everyone else that she was dead in some natural or accidental manner, while he killed her himself…

He continued musing, before noticing that Ichimin's reiatsu was nearby. There was that second possibility always for him to make use of. He may even do it now. Aizen might as well, seeing as he was right there and the nearest reiatsu was a reasonable distance away from the two of them.

Tracking her while suppressing his own reiatsu to nearly nothing, he eventually caught up to Ichimin wandering aimlessly through the back streets of Seireitei. He could see that something was terribly wrong with her; she wasn't really going anywhere in particular but just wandering, it seemed. He could tell that something had happened to her, something huge and something that had crushed her will to live. Good. Maybe she'd off herself and save him or Gin the trouble.

'_Hopefully, something has happened that will actually bring her to suicide. It would take her out of the picture and leave my plans clear.'_

He followed her unnoticed, watched her as she made her way to an old haunt, and one of the only constant homes the despondent shinigami would ever have. A cheap bar.

* * *

Ichimin was crushed. Centuries of work, years and sweat and blood given to Soul Society just so that she could hold that position were all erased in the span of two weeks. Now she was back where she started, back as an unranked member of the Eighth division. Nanao had been so fake; 'You may work your way back up'.

"Ha. Like I'll ever work it all back. It's gone, it's all gone and I'm still an alcoholic. Maybe tonight I'll finally have too much on a bender."

She didn't even bother to just think it as she slipped in the door, collapsing into the stool at the bar. All she had to do was let the barkeep see the look in her face and knock on the counter twice, and two jugs of sake were slid to her.

**_That night is the night where Ichimin Kumorigachi, former Fifth seat of Eighth division under Shunsui Kyoraku, finally hit rock bottom._**

She drank and drank, until all of her money was gone and she couldn't feel anything at all. It was beyond happy drunk, beyond angry drunk. The feeling was of heroin; everything was so very numb. Everything physical was numb, her memories were numbed and blank, but unfortunately enough, that aching feeling that she had lost the one thing keeping her alive in Seireitei remained. And now, she could only vaguely remember that it was something real important. What Ichimin did know, though, was that when she got sober, it was going to amplify twenty times over. What a horrible twisting feeling in her chest; her stomach was ice-cold and knotted. And somehow, the former Fifth seat knew it was going to get even worse when she remembered what was gone.

"Hey. Last call, shinigami. Time to get out and sleep in a ditch or something."

The bartender was uncomforting, but Ichimin slurred a response and grabbed the three full bottles paid for and lined up for her on the counter. Walking was an enigma; she staggered like a person so very drunk that they don't have the slightest clue of what they're doing, but they're experienced enough in walking drunk to do it by instinct.

Aizen saw Ichimin stagger out of the bar, only barely catching herself on the doorway. He could see by her eyes and her gait how very intoxicated she was at the moment. But most of all, he noticed how, despite his thoughts that she would leave happy, giddy and trusting, she was even more wretched than before. Three bottles of sake were clutched in her hands haphazardly and the woman was staggering off towards some destination he doubted she even knew. Following, he watched her move out towards the edges of Rukongai.

Ichimin didn't know where she was going. She didn't even remember why she was so heartrendingly sad. It was even more horrible knowing that it would worsen when she could remember, and even now it was horrible. She didn't even know why, and a blank spot sat on the painful memory. She couldn't access whatever had happened, but it was something that she didn't want to ever remember. And something told Ichimin that it'd just be better to stop it all right now.

"…End it."

She murmured, coming to a large open area in the edges of Rukon. An empty field, with one gnarled tree in the center. A yew, she would normally guess. Right now, she could only fathom that it was indeed a tree. Unknowing that Aizen was still following and watching her, she moved to the tree and sat down at it's base, leaning back against it. It was there that she didn't drink, but merely allowed herself to sober up enough to gain the nerve to do it. The memory of what it was that made her want the ending. By dawn, she could remember enough and proved herself right; Ichimin's will grew blazing bright as she recalled what was now gone. It was centuries of suppressing it all, shoving it away from her conscious. Now, it was all crashing down around her. All the years of repressing that self-loathing, the years and time she sacrificed now gone, the knowledge that she'd failed.

"…I can't go back…"

Ichimin muttered, pulling the top out of her first jug. She remembered now, and had decided to become as drunk as humanely possible before acting it out. She had her nerve; now it was time to go out the way she spent nearly her entire afterlife. Fucking wasted.

Aizen was confused, and this particular shinigami absolutely detested not understanding something. She was obviously crushed about something. It wasn't something that was spur-of-the-moment, or she would have done it by now. This was something that had been building up for many, many years and was just now coming to the surface like thick black oil floating upon water. And it was confusing him, because she didn't seem to be the one that would have so much agony. Gin had told him a decent amount, but it was never expected to be this strong that she held the self-betrayal.

'_I had seen hints about it, but never thought one that hated her own life so very much could put up such a convincing mask. Impressive.'_

Aizen watched her drink herself to the final brink, watched her cry as she did it. It was so melodramatic. He wanted her to go ahead and finish it already.

The third bottle rolled from her palm, coming to a stop in the dried brownish grass. Even now, she couldn't lose the knowledge of what it was that had set it all off, even though she only wanted the nerve to do it with. Now everything was finished, her tears were dried and her nerve was steeled. No one was here to watch her go the coward's route, and she could just snuff herself out quietly. No real loss, seeing as she didn't even know if her few friends would miss her or not. Doubtful, her drunken mind told her. Doubtful, she agreed.

Aizen watched her stand, using the tree for support. Really would need to, seeing as she probably had some level of alcohol poisoning by now. He watched from behind a decrepit building as she undid the tie around her waist, moving to pull a large rock nearby under a sturdy-looking limb. She tied one end around her neck, in an ironically pretty bow. The other was to the limb, not in a bow this time. Checking that the drop would be enough to break her neck and kill her, Ichimin took a very deep breath.

"So long, assholes."

She was in the process of flipping the precariously angled rock out from under her feet when her gaze moved up, almost oddly in the exact precision, to meet Aizen's.

The two shared a thousand-mile stare as the rock finally flipped out from under her feet.

**((CLIFFHANGER. Because if I don't stop here, I'll keep going on forever. Thanks to the readers for putting up with two hundred fifty years of pent up angst finally crashing down on Ichimin.))**


	10. Drinking in the Sunlight

They shared a stare as Ichimin balanced precariously on the rock, her belt tied tightly around her throat to be a makeshift noose. And then, the rock finally slipped and flipped away.

* * *

The drop was sudden; it wasn't the right length, Ichimin's neck didn't break like she wanted it to. She was merely hanging there, feeling the terror of slow suffocation. Aizen stared at her. She would either die here or survive and know of his true nature. And so it was in an instant that Aizen shunpoed near her, giving a hard jerk to the ribbon and seeing it loosen from the tree. Ichimin dropped to the ground with a hard noise and didn't move, and for a moment Aizen wondered if she was dead.

"Ichimin, Ichimin!"

He said urgently and dropped next to her, expecting a woman coarse and unwilling to accept help. Instead, as soon as he laid a hand on her shoulder she basically threw herself into his arms, sobbing loudly into his chest. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but it sounded like 'I'm sorry' over and over again. All Aizen did was hold her tight, sitting on the ground with her as she cried. Loud, guttural wails, the sounds of the hardest and most painful sort of crying. Aizen found that he didn't like seeing her cry like that, and it was confusing. He absolutely loathed being confused, but remained hiding his annoyance as he sat with her. Once she calmed down, he would interrogate her on what had happened and then make a decision from there.

"Calm down, Ichimin. It's alright."

He told her gently, moving to sit against the tree she attempted to hang herself with not two minutes ago. Unexpectedly, having her in his arms and solely dependent on him for survival brought a feeling of warmth to his heart. He had seen every facet of the woman now, and she had many of them. Aizen attempted to ignore the feeling as Ichimin slowly calmed down, now her forehead on his shoulder.

"I-I'm s-sorr-y C-Capt-tain-"

Ichimin began, her words reduced to stutters by the crying. Aizen cut her off right about then, shushing her gently.

"Don't apologize. I just want to know…what happened?"

He waited for a while, as she seemed to gather herself enough for an explanation, before she turned her eyes to look up at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, she had only just stopped spastically sucking in breaths, her hair was mussed and her face was dotted with tears here and there, his shihakusho having absorbed most of them.

She was absolutely beautiful.

He removed his thoughts from that dangerous category long enough to listen to her begin.

"I…I lost…my position as…Fifth seat…because I'm in Fourth…all the time…"

She started, quickly being whipped up into another crying frenzy all over again.

"And I r-remembered and c-could-n't b-bear th-that all m-my years of w-work were gone, and-"

Aizen shushed her again, pulling her against him in a warm, caring embrace.

"It's alright Ichimin; everything is going to be alright. Come along; you can't be alone tonight."

Wait, why can't she? Didn't he want her to be alone, so next time he wouldn't be there to interfere when and if she tried to kill herself again? Yes, yes he did want her to kill herself and be out of his plans. But he didn't want to have her die and not be around. It was complicated, and Aizen was becoming tired of it. He continued to ponder while pulling Ichimin up and holding her bridal style against him, shunpoing back to his personal home. She didn't resist or move during the short trip, merely attempted to calm down a bit. When they arrived, he sat her down on the futon opposite his desk and sat next to her, looking very worried. Ichimin took a few deep breaths, and restarted.

"I…I've been in Fourth division too much, from my own fault. That's what Lieutenant Nanao told me. She said that I might get it back at some point in time, but with my drinking I'm never…going to be able to."

She hung her head, and Aizen tentatively put an arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist him.

"Ichimin, you're a very talented and powerful shinigami. It won't be difficult for you to spend the time to prove your worth again, it's just that you need to stop-"

He began, before she had her head in her hands.

"It doesn't work like that! I…I hate Soul Society. I hate shinigami. I hate being a shinigami. I hate everything here, and almost everyone. What the hell else am I supposed to do than drink? How am I going to deal with that feeling of hate if it's not from a bottle?"

She was still moderately drunk at the moment, but to that level that she was capable of being coherent, and in this moment of weakness was telling the Captain everything that she'd hidden for so long. And at the moment, she was playing right into Aizen's hands. He himself was getting an idea. An idea that concerned a very insidious plot that would cure her problems and his own hesitancy. There was no risk in this plot; with the recent events he'd learned of, then it would work out perfectly in his favor.

"…I can't tell you that. But I can tell you that I am going to be here for you, Ichimin."

He moved her head gently to brush her hair back and tell her this with the absolute truest of stares. It was still falsely kind, but the intentions were the same. She was something tormented, a wretched thing. Someone who could truly understand the cruelness and the evil of Soul Society, how this world really was. And she was a draw for Aizen; in the way she could hide her emotions as he did. Never a more perfect setup.

Ichimin looked up at Aizen as he spoke, and soon found herself embracing the man. She wasn't sobbing wildly this time, just wanting some comfort in his presence. It was stupid, it was dangerous and she was going beyond her rank in this action but at the moment, she didn't care. Aizen didn't either, apparently, because he wrapped his arms around her and leaned back onto the futon, enjoying having her so dependent on him and enjoying having her so close

Ichimin proved something weaker than himself, but something that was close to his own level in at least one area; deception. A very useful trait, and the fact that she had grown attached to him from all the times he had saved her was a boon that Aizen hadn't expected to acquire. Gin would no doubt either be happy or pissed that Ichimin was more involved, but whether Gin was complacent with his plans or not wasn't of any consequence to Aizen. There was, however, the problem of her alcoholism. Ichimin would need to be weaned off of it slowly, and during that time of detox, he could only dream of the hell she would bring him and everyone else around them. But, no matter. It would all end in his favor no matter the path they took, and so it wasn't of great consequence which direction they moved in as long as it was forward.

Ichimin was currently cuddled up to Aizen, taking great comfort in the clean smell of his cologne. She didn't want to go, and be away from the only one that would ever comfort her in this type of situation. Gin was a good friend, yes, but he was devoted to Matsumoto. Matsumoto herself was like an elder sister, and Ichimin didn't want a sisterly comfort. Something that had been present ever since the dinner date with Aizen was currently making itself known to her, and the female shinigami wasn't stupid enough not to know what it was. She had grown attached to this Captain over the times he had saved her from death or worse, which made three times now, and was absolutely terrified of it. So she had a thing for Aizen. How would Ichimin ever be able to say it? She couldn't; at this moment in time, the last thing she would need is rejection. That would definitely giver her that gentle push over the brink. But the woman could instead keep it quiet, as she had with all of her negative emotions for all those decades. It'd probably never work anyway; over time, the attraction would be smothered out and the two could continue with their own lives. Right?

She didn't care at the moment, as Aizen brushed her hair from her face. Contented and calmed, she quickly fell into a deep sleep as Aizen watched. When he could feel her breathing slow and deepen, he opened his eyes again to look her over. Relatively attractive, a bit plain but not ugly. He enjoyed having her around, enjoyed it ever since they had had that conversation at night. But how she would react to his methods was to be seen.

'_Even if she does think ill of it, it will not be a problem. Ichimin will learn that in certain situations, the painful choice is the best of them all.'_

_

* * *

  
_

That next morning, Ichimin opened her eyes to a massive headache. A crying headache mixed with hangover pain. It was like someone was driving a chisel through her forehead. Sitting up, she realized that Aizen was gone and that she wasn't in his house anymore. She was in her own division, in her empty unranked bedroom. Sitting up, she remembered what had transpired last night. Remembered enough of it, anyway, there were bits missing here and there. She remembered being drunk and she remembered tying the belt around her throat. In fact, it was still there in that elegant ribbon covering the crescent moon scar across her throat. And she remembered Aizen. Running her hand through her hair, Ichimin closed her eyes gently and finally let go of the fact she'd lost her position as Fifth. The title was gone and that tiny addition to her paycheck was nonexistent, but then again, it'd never been that important anyway. What was more important was that she would now have…

"Holy shit, I don't have as much paperwork."

The wide-eyed woman looked at the 'to-do' stack and noticed that it was much smaller than before. She could do that much in ten minutes. And one more thing she had missed dearly.

"…I can go out on patrol missions. I get to kill hollows again."

There was sunshine in the demotion, a bright spot of brilliant sunshine. Sure, she was in the noisy barracks now and the room was tiny, but that didn't matter because she wouldn't be spending every moment of her free time doing goddamn paperwork.

Sitting up further, she moved off of her futon to stand shakily. It was a very good feeling that she wouldn't have to worry about paperwork anymore. Hot damn, that paperwork thing was brightening up her hangover more by the minute.

"…Hm…"

She pondered what to do now. Choosing paperwork, she finished it quickly and now had nothing to do.

"…I forgot how it feels to be a peon. Feels pretty fucking great."

She jumped in the shower to get the smell of cheap liquor and clean scented cologne off of her, switching out her shihakusho with a fresh one. Showers always made her feel a whole lot better when she was hung over, and as she stepped out into the day's sunshine a shatteringly loud slamming noise rang out. Ichimin's eyes widened before she dashed in, grabbing her odd-colored Zanpakuto and running outside with it attached to her hip. The gate; someone was attacking the gate.

"A hollow? Or a Ryoka?"

She breathed, still seeing a bit double but able to figure out which double was real. Always the one on the left. Shunpoing, Ichimin left Eighth to back up the array of shinigami apparently already stationed around the gate. A blond head; someone familiar.

"Kira! Erm, Lieutenant Kira."

She called, and then corrected herself. Not a Fifth seat anymore; even for a Fifth to call a Lieutenant by their name was very substandard. For an unranked shinigami to do it was near blasphemy. At the call, Kira turned around and looked to Ichimin.

"Oh, Fifth seat Kumorigachi."

Ichimin grinned a bit, a little sadly.

"Nah, not anymore. Demoted; I'm…unranked now."

Izuru looked sympathetic, but Ichimin just turned it away.

"What happened? Who's attacking?"

She had a hand on her Zanpakuto hilt, even though officially, wartime had not been declared and she wasn't supposed to be carrying it around at the moment. Other shinigami had theirs out though, so it was just in case the attackers came inside.

"Ryoka. No trouble though, Jidanbou's on the other side. We'll be fine."

Ichimin glanced over to see Hisagi there, and vaguely noticed the divisions there at the moment.

"Why'd they send both Third and Ninth here? Was there something going on?"

Ichimin asked him curiously. Hisagi shrugged.

"We were put on patrol behind the wall while it was lowered, and the Ryoka just happened to come along."

Immediately, they all felt a spike in reiatsu and realized whose it was.  
"Wasn't that Captain Ichimaru?"

A nameless division member asked nobody in particular. Ichimin shrugged.

"Probably. The Captain might've just been scaring them away from the wall or something. God knows nearly everyone here'd run from him if he tried to chase us off."

A general murmur of agreement through the lower division members rumbled, before Ichimin yawned in the sunlight.

"Well, we've got something to do again. Finally."

She stretched, and since nothing seemed to be happening, the former Fifth seat began to walk away.

"You guys don't need me if you've got the Captain around. Since I'm unranked now, I think I'll go drink in the sunlight on a roof or something."

She had at least today before they set up all the grunt jobs she'd have to be doing again, like cleaning and patrol missions. But she was lazy enough to cut some major corners while cleaning, and patrol missions were what she was looking forward to.

"Yeah, alright. See you later."

She heard Hisagi call back, and Ichimin waved over her shoulder to him. Heading away from the wall, she returned to her room and dropped off her Zanpakuto once more. Grabbing a bottle of sake, it was easy enough to hide it in her shihakusho while passing Kyoraku in the hallway to make sure he didn't see it and want to join her. Actually, the Captain looked pretty surprised at how much of a good mood Ichimin was in at the moment, now merrily heading outside to do something menial, most likely.

"Hey there, Kumorigachi. How are you today?"

He asked, a bit suspiciously. Ichimin waved back to him as she had done with Hisagi.

"Fine, fine. Nice day out, Captain."

She didn't want for a response before hurriedly slipping out of the division and shunpoing onto a roof. Looking down at the building beneath her feet, Ichimin thought long and hard for a moment.

"Hm…no, I can't stay on an Eighth roof. I know Kyoraku'll see me up here when he comes to hide from the Lieutenant. I need a division that people won't bother to look up on roofs in. And even if they were to see me, a division where nobody would fuck with me while I'm relaxing."

Immediately, First, Second, Sixth, Eighth, Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth were cut out of the lineup. Third was Ichimaru's division, and knowing him, he'd pop up and scare the shit out of her just for the hell of it. So Third was out. Fourth, she'd get lectured on alcohol abuse. Fourth was out too. Fifth would have Momo there. Hovering, lecturing Momo. Ichimin didn't know Komamura, and so drinking in his division might be frowned upon. Tetsuzaemon was Lieutenant, but they hadn't met beyond getting good and roaring drunk together, so maybe not. Thirteenth seemed like the best choice, but Ukitake was apparently having another sick spell, from what she'd heard. It wouldn't be right to drink on his roof like a lazy bastard when the man is coughing up blood and all.

"…Eh, I can deal with Momo. Fifth it is then."

It was a relatively uneventful journey from the roofs of Eighth to the roofs of Fifth. She wasn't rushed at all, and soon came to a stop on a particularly warm-looking roof. Sitting down, Ichimin sprawled out on the pleasantly warm roof and opened up her bottle, taking a measured sip.

"This is the life…" She sighed contentedly, loosening the tie around her waist and opening up the top of her shihakusho enough to show more skin to the warm sun. The sounds of the cicada were soothing to her; she had listened to them when a child in Seventy-Ninth, and had always been eager to hear them every year. This year had been no different.

It was so nice a day.

Ichimin remained there and sipped, only getting the lightest of buzzes to make the relaxing day even more relaxing. She moved her top again to show her shoulders and stomach, before saying 'fuck it' and going topless. But she was still in another division and didn't have seniority anymore; that could end badly. So instead, Ichimin put the top under her and moved the sleeves to cover her breasts. That worked perfectly, and now the buzzed Eighth divisioner was getting rather drowsy. Setting the bottle of sake upright next to her, Ichimin drifted off to a light sleep on a roof in Fifth division.

* * *

Aizen stepped out of his division, preparing to head home with a bit of paperwork to do. The cicadas were quieting down and crickets were taking over the night with their untraceable chirping. Night had fallen quickly, and it was pleasantly cool outside. A bit chilly when the wind blew, but that was rare and it remained a very pleasant night. At the moment, everything was falling into place and very soon, he would have the Hogyoku in his grasp and ascend past Soul Society, to greater heights.

At that moment, Aizen noticed something. A female hand was hanging over the edge of his roof, still and limp. Mildly curious, Aizen shunpoed up to see who was on his roof.

It was an understatement to say that he wasn't expecting to see a topless Ichimin laying on her stomach on top of his roof, an upright bottle of sake within arm's reach and her shihakusho top under her chest like a cover between her and the roof. Most likely drunk, he had thought before noticing that the bottle was over half full.

_'So she was sunbathing and fell asleep? What a lazy woman.'_

Leaning down, Aizen leaned forward to Ichimin's face.

"Ichimin, wake up."

The woman woke up abruptly and jerked up on her elbows, looking around.

"What? Whasshappenin?"

For about three seconds, she failed to notice that she was still topless, leaning up and that Aizen was there. When she did finally realize that she was flashing him, Ichimin grabbed her shihakusho top and threw it on quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, Captain, didn't know that anyone was coming up here, I accidentally fell asleep, and…and…"

Only half doing up her shihakusho top, Ichimin sighed and gave up. She found that the article of clothing was apparently ripped from her rolling around on it, and only fastened enough to cover her. A good amount of cleavage was still visible.

"Sorry Captain."

She sighed, expecting Aizen to throw her out of his division now. Awkward, and now she'd probably just incinerated any chances that he'd ever talk with her again. Instead, she looked up at him when a Captain's white haori was draped over her shoulders. Aizen smiled down to her, kindly.

"Please, Ichimin. It was an accident. Understandable, since it was so nice earlier in the day."

As he talked to her, Ichimin noticed that he kept his eyes from her chest and maintained eye contact, which only proved him more gentlemanly to her. It was his kindness and gentlemanliness that made him her friend. She attempted to keep from switching out 'her friend' with 'attractive to her', as she pulled the haori to cover herself and smiled to him. He was too nice to want anything romantic to do with a drunk who now had no ranking in Seireitei.

"Y-yeah. Thanks, Captain Aizen."

She laughed a bit, smiling and closing her eyes. Looking to her bottle of sake, she picked it up and found that it was cold. She liked it when it was cold; it gave that icy feeling in her stomach that turned warm the more she drank. Taking a cool sip, she looked up at the clear sky. The stars were out, hanging in the sky like diamonds while the crickets sang. She smiled warmer at the sky, closing her eyes gently. Aizen watched her, seeing how Ichimin looked when she was at complete peace with the world.

"So Captain, why'd you come up here?"

Ichimin asked, looking over her shoulder to him with that same smile. Aizen blinked, before looking up to the sky.

"I saw that someone was on my office roof, and decided to see who it was."

Ichimin laughed a bit, before feeling a chilled breeze blow past them both. She shivered, even through Aizen's haori.

"It's getting colder."

She stated, shivering. Looking to Aizen, Ichimin realized that because of her sleeping topless, now Aizen didn't have that extra layer of warmth.

"Winter is coming. It's going to snow soon."

Aizen stated, before feeling someone lean up against him. Looking down in surprise, Ichimin was throwing the haori over his shoulders and choosing to lean against him.

"Ichimin, I gave that to you to actually wear."

He stated, before Ichimin laughed. She had her arms crossed over her chest, leaning up against his side under the haori draped over his shoulder.

"What, and get you sick because of me? I can compromise. Sharing never hurt anybody."

She stopped smiling, looking up to him.

"Unless you don't want me here, I can sit over there again if you'd like."

Ichimin was moving while she spoke, attempting to crawl away and give him room when he draped an arm around her shoulders, holding her closer to him.

"It's no trouble at all, Ichimin. I rather enjoy having you here."

It would be hard not to notice that Ichimin's face had gone vermilion at the statement, unused to the sort of personal attention not given in a drunken slur. Aizen looked down to Ichimin, watching her with a smile. She was sipping her sake again, before realizing it and setting the bottle down with a nervous laughter.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting that I'm not alone or with drinking friends. Really have to stop being such a drunk moron, huh?"

She felt him move against her and realized that he had moved in front of her, and she was staring up at him with a sense of wonder as he spoke gently to her, his hands on her forearms.

"Don't say that about yourself, Ichimin. You're an intelligent and beautiful woman with a problem, that's all."

She listened to him wordlessly, before that his hands had slid down to hers. Without so much as a thought, she laid her hands in his and stared up into his eyes.

"I'm none of those things. I'm a hopeless drunk who lost her job over it and has nearly been killed because it, multiple times. So don't lie to me, Captain. Don't tell me I'm beautiful."

Aizen listened, carefully keeping in mind how compliant she was with him and how to have her completely won over.

"Then may I tell you that you are intelligent?"

She shook her head, feeling his warm hands close around hers.

"No. Don't tell me I'm intelligent."

She was leaning up and he was leaning down, their faces very close.

"Then may I tell you that you mean a great deal to me?"

He asked very quietly. Aizen he did…feel something. So it wasn't a lie after all; Aizen was just leaving out the small fact that he himself didn't know what it was that made her important, and that he was currently on the idea that it was because of her ability to hide her real emotions as he did and how useful it would be to him.

At the words, Ichimin stopped a moment in measured shock, but smiled warmly up to him.

"Yes, you can tell me that I mean a great deal to you. Because I hadn't the nerve to tell you the exact same."

Aizen quietly leaned down a bit more at this statement, sharing a gentle kiss with Ichimin. She didn't respond negatively in the slightest, her hands moving from his and to his shoulders and holding onto the material of his shihakusho gently. They remained there as she felt his hands around her waist. It was a good thing she had been sitting on her knees, or it would've been much more awkward. After a moment, she felt him run his tongue across her bottom lip, and the woman complied, gripping a bit tighter in his shihakusho as the kiss deepened considerably. It wasn't rough or sloppy, as Ichimin was used to in the odd drunken tryst she had been in. Aizen was gentle but firm, and neither of them proved purely dominant.

He tasted like expensive tea, she noticed. She tasted like cheap alcohol, he noticed.

Ichimin groaned softly, and immediately after felt herself swept off her feet and into his arms without breaking the kiss. Clinging onto him tightly, her bottle of sake and his small bit of paperwork was long forgotten as Aizen shunpoed with her, continuing on until he stopped at his door. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he stood at the door with her as if asking, 'Is this what you want?'

Ichimin smiled, cheeks flushed and fingers still knotted in his shihakusho. She nodded gently, and kissed him again as he opened the door and brought her inside, shutting it behind them quietly.

* * *

**((Next chapter: lemon time! Soon, the choo-choo to Angstytown is making a visit so get ready for the angst coming up. Because no romance fic of mine is going to be completely loving and happy. Especially one with Aizen in it. Because I always saw Aizen as being controlling, dominating and some level of 'Nobody else loves you like I do, and they never will' kind of mentally abusive. See you next chapter!))**


	11. Passion and Plots

**((Alright, obligatory lemon warning.  
THERE BE SOME BOMB-DIGGITY BOW CHICKA WAH WOW IN DIS SHINDIG.  
And yes, I put that at the top of every lemon chapter that proves important in some way. Enjoy, and recall that in the next chapter, the choo-choo for Angstytown is boarding. That's the plan, anyway. And in case anyone cares at all, I'm going by memory of Aizen's personal quarters from the night when she stayed with Aizen, the night before he faked his death. If I screwed anything up, let me know. And I'm also horrifically self-conscious about my lemon scenes, so if I suck let me know so that I can get better.))**

* * *

Their kissing didn't stop from the moment he shut the door behind them, having to let her down to lock the door. Ichimin kept a firm hold on him, only breaking for the occasional breath before they were together again. The door was locked and she was pressed against the nearby wall while simultaneously knocking a few things off of a small table nearby, driven mad by the sensations and how he was everywhere to her. Aizen was all she could see, all she could feel. All she could taste.

"Aizen..." She sighed, after they broke for breath again. She was immediately swept up and in a flurry of movement, dropped with a soft plopping noise onto the futon across from the desk. The white Captain's haori covering her, she couldn't recall when he'd put it back on her, was pulled off and tossed aside as Aizen kneeled above her, spending a moment to take in her appearance. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was heavy. Good; she was obviously at his mercy at the moment. And at that moment, she was staring up at him with half-lidded eyes, waiting for him to resume. No use in keeping her waiting.

Ichimin saw as Aizen leaned down close to her again, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed against her to resume the deep kisses. His glasses kept getting in the way and so she pulled them off of him, haphazardly tossing them aside to resume the threading of her fingers in his hair. She loved it, and dimly realized that she couldn't actually clearly remember any sexual encounters before this. Oh right. She'd been wasted. That probably explained it succinctly.

Aizen moved to kiss along her jawline, and Ichimin turned her head upwards as he did, and he moved over her throat to kiss her collarbone that had been exposed from the tearing of her uniform in her earlier sleeping. She loosened her hold around his waist as he pulled back enough to lay his hands along the bottom of her shihakusho top, waiting for the go ahead. She adjusted herself a bit, nodding to him to show that she was ready. At the go ahead, Aizen undid the top and pulled it off of her, which was exceedingly easy considering that it was torn in the first place. She was bared to him a second time that night, though in this time she was blushing much harder than before and obviously embarrassed to some extent. Gently he smiled, running a hand over her chest to feel Ichimin stiffen a bit under his touch. It was pleasant to know that she was responsive to this degree of his actions. Slowly Aizen worked, kissing up her stomach and moving upwards to her left breast. A flick of his tongue and she sighed audibly, apparently highly sensitive in the chest area. Moving ahead to gentle sucking, he paid equal attention to her other breast and watched with hidden but great amusement at Ichimin's helplessness under his touch. He could do anything to the woman and most likely, she wouldn't say a word about it. That was good; he would have no problems with her then.

Aizen moved his attentions away from her chest, kissing up to her mouth again and being accepted fully in that respect. She couldn't get enough of him.

"Captain Aizen-"  
Ichimin began, before being cut off.  
"Call me Sosuke."  
Aizen spoke against her lips, and she remained quiet a moment before speaking his name.  
"Sosuke."  
He was pleased with this, it seemed, because Aizen smiled again and resumed another kiss. Ichimin however felt his hand on her stomach, moving downwards and beneath her hakama. It was a soft pressure on the outside of her underwear, but her muscles contracted all the same at the action.

"May I?"  
Aizen requested, and the woman under him nodded with her eyes still closed.  
"Yes, Sosuke."

Aizen smiled against her throat as he pressed a bit harder, moving in small tight circles over the area he knew he would get the most reaction from. Ichimin breathed harder, small sighs and moans of his name spurred Aizen on. He could feel a wetness beneath his fingers, but it wasn't quite time yet. He was quite enjoying himself with this encounter; her reactions to him were absolutely priceless. If only Gin could see Kumorigachi now; he would no doubt either be just as amused as Aizen, or be asking them if they wanted a menage 'a trois.

He tugged her hakama down and off, noticing that she must have kicked off her geta and tabi at some point in time earlier. He had done the same. Seeing her only in a pair of thin white panties was empowering to him, knowing that he had torn down the guarded woman's defenses to the point where she would so openly allow him to take her in the most intimate of ways.

Running his hands up her legs, he hooked his fingers under the straps for her underwear and slid them off, dropping them to the side of the futon before returning to Ichimin, noticing that she apparently shaved. Ignoring it, he kissed from her navel downwards, stopping right before the area itself.

"May I?"  
He asked once again, reestablishing that he she had complete control. Well, not really, because she nodded just as he knew she would and immediately arched her back as he began. His mouth was like lava; so hot, and it drove Ichimin mad. She bit her fist, attempting to repress louder groans, until Aizen stopped to take her hands and pull them away from her face.

"I want to hear you, Ichimin. I wouldn't want to have to tie you up."  
He smiled to show that it was a joke, and Ichimin sort of smiled back and nodded. She grabbed the material of the futon under her, stiffening as he began again with measured sucking directly where he knew she would react the most from. It was amusing to hear how her breath would hitch when he gave a particularly hard suck, or hear her cry out when he would stop for a moment and begin again suddenly. All of a sudden she cried out again and Aizen felt her tighten in climax. Waiting for her to recover and fall into the white haze, he kissed back up to her mouth again and Ichimin oddly noted the new heavier taste masking the tea flavor Aizen usually held. But she didn't dwell on it long, tugging on and pulling off the belt on his uniform that she had nearly hung herself with on her own uniform last night. Aizen assisted her in pulling the top of his shihakusho off, dropping it in some place neither was particularly interested in. He also helped her with his hakama, and she pulled his boxers off herself. No attention was paid on her part to his size; that sort of thing had never been important to Ichimin, really. She just waited for him, and he complied by pressing up against her entrance.

"Are you ready, Ichimin?"  
Aizen asked, somewhat huskily. They had moved to where their faces were close once more, and Ichimin held onto his forearms lightly.  
"Do it, Sosuke. Please."  
A smirk had to be repressed on Aizen's part towards that last word. He moved slowly, pressing in further until he was completely within her, and she was still a moment while trying to adjust. He kissed her jawline again, moving down to her throat. When he came to the scar, however, she froze and he looked into her eyes.

"Don't you trust me, Ichimin? I won't hurt you."  
Ichimin looked at him for what felt like an eternity, before closing her eyes and giving a wordless acceptance. He ran his lips across the long scar, gently, and she didn't jerk awy from him but merely remained still. When she looked to him and nodded a bit, he began a slow rhythm of movement, moving from her throat to hover face to face with Ichimin, both of them breathing heavily by now.

"I trust you, Sosuke..." Ichimin sighed, moving her head forward a bit to press her forehead to his. He smiled at this, already beginning to speed up a bit.  
"I'm glad; we're this far already. It's a bit of a bad place not to trust me."  
She giggled a bit, before her breathing became pants, and she was groaning his name again. Aizen straightened up, now moving in an attempt to find the area that would drive the woman below him insane. Her legs were locked around his waist, and with her hair splayed out across his bedding, her face flushed and her groans in the room, it was as if she were a completely different person than the woman that nearly committed suicide yesterday night.

She suddenly cried out; he had finally found that area and now focused his thrusts there, seeing her writhe under his ministrations being very fulfilling. He himself was nearing climax, and from how loud Ichimin was getting he could only assume the same. He was at a fever pitch, and immediately before he felt her tighten around him and heard her scream his name, Aizen caught sight of what was in her eyes. She trusted him. She cared for him. No...Ichimin loved him. It was a stupid choice, for the former Fifth seat to have staggered drunkenly into his intricate web of softly spoken lies and caring deceit. He now wanted her beside him, and he was going to have her where he wanted her. Ichimin didn't know it, but the choice had already been made and the plans already set up to carry it out.

Aizen reached his own climax moments after Ichimin's, stiffening and closing his eyes to fully take in the sensation of good sex. He leaned forward and brought her into another deep kiss, remaining in that position for a few precious moments before he pulled out slowly and laid next to her spent form, pulling the sheets over their bodies. He brought Ichimin closer to himself, holding her to his chest and she clung to him equally.

"I love you..."  
He heard her say quietly, and while she couldn't see him from having her face in his chest, he smiled differently than normal. It wasn't kind and caring and warm. It was of cold humor and plotting.  
"Goodnight, Ichimin."

Feeling her slowly begin to breathe slower and deeper, Aizen was spent himself. But before he would allow himself to sleep, his eyes trailed to Kyoka Suigetsu sitting in the corner by his desk. It would be so easy right now. He could be rid of her, never have to worry about Ichimin Kumorigachi again. The chamber of forty four was under the illusion of life; it would be equally easy to have a false Ichimin continue her duties until he faked his own death. Then she could 'die' as he would, and the two 'murders' could be pinned on the same person. It would be so easy.

"..."

Aizen closed his eyes instead, pulling Ichimin closer to himself and drifting off into a light sleep.

* * *

**((Well, you guys should be happy. I write this up until two in the morning so that I could start on chapter twelve tomorrow, because I'm psyched about it.  
Anyway, the plot gets moving again next chapter and the choo-choo comes soon enough. Next time, guys.))**


	12. From Heaven to Hell

**((Hello again all, and welcome to the first incident of many where Ichimin gets fucked over and Aizen gets his way. Because when it comes to my OCs, they go through a lot of shit. Choo-choo to Angstytown, now boarding!))**

**

* * *

  
**

Ichimin opened her eyes slowly, simultaneously patting around on the futon for any indication that Aizen was still there. She couldn't feel him, and instead found a note.

_Dear Ichimin,_

_I had a Captain's meeting to attend. I hope that you will not be angry with me for having to leave you alone._

_Aizen_

"He still thinks I'll get mad at that kind of shit."

Ichimin laughed a bit, before noticing her clothes folded and laid at the end of the bed. The top was still torn, and she'd need to be careful to get back to Eighth and grab a new one before she could go out again.

Getting dressed quickly, Ichimin shunpoed from Aizen's home quickly, to keep from being seen. What sort of things people would say if they knew a now-unranked shinigami was sleeping with a Captain. Seireitei was just like that, she knew it well. She'd seen scandals before; they were never pretty.

Ichimin slipped back into Eighth and headed for her new housing, reaching for her door. She needed to get a new shihakusho top, and to get ready for whatever duties she might have now.

"Kumorigachi?"

A voice made her freeze, and Ichimin kept a hand to her chest as she looked sideways to her Lieutenant. Nanao was watching her closely; having noticed that she was hiding something, and moved a bit closer.

"Is something the matter? Were you gone last night? I've got something I need to speak with you about, also."

Ichimin shook her head, opening her door.

"Nothing. I was just sleeping on a roof and my shihakusho got torn. I'm just getting a new one. And... Yeah. I was."

Before Nanao could corner her any further, Ichimin slipped in the room and closed it behind her.

"Sorry Lieutenant, I'll be out in a bit."

She switched out her shihakusho, wondering on whether she could take a shower or just hope that nobody smelled the sex still in her hair. She smelled it herself, and sighed. A quick shower, then she'd be out.

She was in and out quickly enough, only long enough to stop smelling of sex and replace it with soap or something. Changing back into the shihakusho, she left her room and hurried to Nanao's office, to see what she had wanted. Nanao was at her desk, and as Ichimin approached she held out one piece of paper. Ichimin took it and read it over curiously, before grinning. It was an order.

"A patrol order! I get to go out and kill hollows again!"

Nanao nodded, returning to her paperwork. It looked like a helluva lot more now that Ichimin didn't do half of it.

"You're leaving today, at noon. That's an hour, so prepare to move out. It's going to be you and three other division members working as a squad, so they will be waiting for you."

Ichimin nodded, turning to go and prepare for the excursion.

"And Kumorigachi."

Nanao called her attention back, and Ichimin turned around.

"Huh? Yes, Lieutenant?"

The Lieutenant Captain was watching her intently now, very serious.

"Who or whatever you're getting yourself involved with, be careful."

Ichimin froze, before laughing a bit and nodding.

"You just know everything about me, Lieutenant. Don't worry, I'll be fine. If I could tell you who he was, you'd know that I was in good hands."

Ichimin turned away, shunpoing back to her room and grabbing her Zanpakuto again.

"We're getting to go out again, kill hollows. About damn time, huh Kyo?"

It wasn't the blade's full name, but she could feel it react with her attention and the announcement of use. The blade felt like it was singing.

"That's right, Kyo, we get to fight again. I've been missing it too."

She put the blade at her hip, feeling the weight and enjoying it. Now turning to see what time she had left, she found that it was forty minutes. Enough time to make a visit to someone in particular before she left for the Material World.

Aizen was relaxing in his office, now thinking through his plans. Soon he would fake his own death and retreat to the Central Forty-Four's building, after the Ryoka arrived. He became aware of a knocking at his door, and called out to them.

"Yes? Who is it?"

The voice that answered was clear and had a note of happiness in it.

"It's me, Captain. Ichimin."

Aizen stood, moving around his desk and opening the door to look down on her with a smile.

"Ichimin, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

She looked unmistakably happy, much more so than usual. Quickly, Aizen got his answer.

"I'm going on a mission to the Material World for a regular hollow extermination. I thought I'd say goodbye before I left. You know, just…in case."

Even through that happiness, she remembered the danger that a patrol mission held. Good shinigami, honest shinigami had been killed and devoured on those missions.

Aizen tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes with a calm smile.

"It will all be fine, Ichimin. Just a regular patrol mission; there's a chance you won't even see any hollows."

Ichimin smiled back a bit, before leaning up and kissing him gently before pulling back and heading for the door.

"I'll be fine, I know that. And once Kyo and I kick some hollow ass, we'll be back and doing menial chores for low pay and no benefits! The profession I've always dreamed of!"

She smiled, laughing a bit while shunpoing out the door. Aizen watched her go, smiling to himself for a completely different reason.

Coming to a stop in front of the three other shinigami at the gate to the Material World, Ichimin waved to them all.

"Hey guys. We ready to go?"

There was a tough, no-nonsense looking guy waiting impatiently for her arrival. When she did arrive, he promptly let her know how much of an ass he was.

"Alright Kumorigachi, I'm the leader of this squadron. Don't think that because you were once a Fifth seat, that gives you seniority and control over how I run this group. You follow my orders, and I don't want to hear any shit from you just because you got your drunken ass thrown out of rank and back in with the grunts. Got that?"

Ichimin now wanted to kill this man. Him, and the two lackeys snickering about the former Fifth seat's misfortune.

"Yeah, fine. And you've got a Hell butterfly on your face."

The uptight man blinked, before brushing the insect off of his face and letting it onto his shoulder. Ichimin's own Hell butterfly was currently sitting on the crown of her head. She didn't bother moving it.

"Alright, let's move out and get this over with!"

The three stepped through the gate, hearing it close behind him. They appeared in the sky over Karakura Town, all four shunpoing down to ground level.

"Alright, I can sense hollows to the North and South. You and you, go hunt them down."

The two nameless lackeys both shunpoed off to find them, while it left alone both Asshole and Ichimin.

"I'll go scout ahead for more of them. You do the same, except at least attempt to be more than incompetent."

He was gone in a flash, and Ichimin was alone. She swore aloud at him after he was gone, and watched the humans wander around on their little lives. She felt two of the hollow reiatsus disappear. They felt kind of odd though, and the shinigami reiatsus also seemed to change. But she ignored it, mainly because whatever happened to the lackeys wasn't her fault since she didn't control the entire group. She watched the high school kids wander around and do mindless things, talking about stupid shit and doing retarded crap that'd either get them arrested or killed. It was fun to watch, and wonder if she had been one of these kids when she died. Not really one of these kids, since she would have been living in the seventeen hundreds when she died. Japan in the seventeen hundreds…that meant that she might have been the daughter of a ronin or something. Maybe even a daimyo's child. Who knew. Couldn't be something amazing, since she had come to Soul Society as a child. But she had been incredibly thin and amazingly hungry when she did wake up.

Her attention was caught by a pulse in reiatsu, and Ichimin shunpoed furiously to arrive at where the head asshole shinigami had been. When she arrived, all she saw was three human-shaped hollows, all turning to look at her from behind their masks. She stared at them before drawing her Zanpakuto, lunging for a quick kill. Two jumped out of the way, but she was able to hook her blade in and decapitate the first. One screeched at her, preparing to attack but hanging back for some reason. The other seemed to be afraid of her, which was odd for a hollow. She shrugged it off and attacked, quickly finding out that both of them were able to slice her open with their claws, and that they were too quick to be caught by her blade again.

Sporting claw marks up her left arm and across her right shoulder, Ichimin held her blade out, horizontal.

"Shine, Kyokkou!"

The blade grew hot in her hands, glowing brightly before stretching into a familiar long polearm shape. Kyokkou was in the shape of a Guan Dao, which was why she was able to wield the naginata in the sparring/deathmatch against Zaraki. A bright red cloth hung at the end near her hands, a tassle to confuse the enemy.

The two hollows stared at one another for a moment, before attacking. Ichimin deflected both the strikes with the handle, already beginning to move and twist, starting up the momentum needed to attack. She swung and twisted, throwing the blade around at the two hollows while spinning her Zanpakuto around like a baton and eventually landing a killing blow, using all the momentum to slice clean through the second hollow's stomach, leaving a gash that caused it to collapse.

_'What the hell are these hollows? Human-shaped? And why do they have Zanpakuto??'_

The last hollow matched her attacks blow for blow in the most part, and the tide turned on Ichimin as it's blade bit deeply into her shoulder.

"Fuck!" Ichimin spat, twisting away after flicking Kyokkou's cloth end in his face and getting his attention long enough to escape. She staggered back a few feet, before spitting on the ground and gripping her Kyokkou tighter.

"Glow!" She spat, twisting her Zanpakuto into a horizontal position. The light caught the blade and was amplified through the mirror-like construct, flashing brightly and temporarily blinding the hollow that had been watching closely. In the split second she had, Ichimin shunpoed forward and drove Kyokkou through the hollow's chest, before ripping the blade free and shoving the hollow to the ground.

As she towered over it, preparing for the coup d' grace, the hollow reached up to her in an almost pleading way, and let out a low rasping noise as if it were attempting to speak. She ignored it and drove the blade down, clean through the hollow thing's mask and head.

"Kumorigachi!! What the hell are you doing?!" A voice screeched in disbelief, and Ichimin looked from her hollow prey to another group of shinigami, all four of them absolutely horrified at her.

"What? I was just killing these weird hollows." Ichimin explained, motioning towards her Zanpakuto. She happened to look around behind her and saw not human-shaped hollows.

Shinigami.

The things she had killed, in their places were the shinigami she had arrived with. One was missing his head. The other lackey was gored through the stomach, and had bled out long ago.

"They're…I saw them…" Ichimin stammered, before, with a deep sickening feeling, looking down at what was at the end of her Kyokkou. She nearly vomited at the sight of her blade through the abrasive shinigami's head, and jerked Kyokkou free to stagger back. Covered in blood. She was drenched in shinigami blood, and she had thought they were hollows.

"They…they were hollows! I swear I saw them as-"

Ichimin turned around, staggering towards the new shinigami group imploringly before four Zanpakuto were drawn and four shinigami shunpoed to surround her, all holding blades to a vital point.

"Drop your Zanpakuto, Kumorigachi. You'll be taken back to Soul Society and put on trial for the murder of three fellow shinigami. You'll die for this."

Ichimin stared on in shocked horror. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. The lead shinigami of the second group stared hard at her, and the former Fifth seat could see that there was no escape. It was happening. How, she didn't know, but it had happened.

Kyokkou dropped from her limp hand and reverted back to a sealed form, and one of the shinigami snatched it up and jerked the sheath from her hip, sheathing the Zanpakuto and holding it himself.

"You won't need this." He growled, and Ichimin hung her head. Two held her hands tightly, Zanpakuto still leveled at her vitals while the lead shinigami kept his blade at her throat.

"I didn't…they looked like hollows…I'm sorry…" Ichimin said softly, and the lead pressed the blade tighter against her jugular.

"Don't you apologize, you bitch. Apologies aren't going to bring your victims back, so just shut the fuck up."

He removed his Zanpakuto from her throat to open a path to Soul Society, and the three began to lead her in.

"Why did you four come?" She asked quietly, and the group remained quiet a moment before answering.

"We were sent to retrieve your group. Ryoka have invaded Seireitei, and we need all the blades we have. Unfortunately, you revealed your true colors at a bad time for us." The leader stated lowly, and they continued for the gate.

Ichimin looked up, staring at the gate. As they stepped through, she glanced back at the carnage of her mistaken extermination. Mouthing two words, she then hung her head again as they passed through to her judgment day.

_"I'm sorry."_

_

* * *

_**((All aboard the Angstytown Express. From around here on out, it's going to get darker. Expect more angst. A lot of it. :D))**_  
_


	13. Death Sentence

**((Angst ahead. Thick angst. Since I make Ichimin's life shit and everything.))**

**

* * *

  
**

A woman sat in a small cell in the Tenth division, in a small chair so reminiscent of a woman in the exact same situation. Her long dirty blond hair clashed openly with the painfully plain white kosode she had been changed into when the officials had learned of the crime she had unknowingly perpetrated. The group that had been sent to retrieve hers was of Tenth division, and they had merely brought her back to their own cells for ease while they sent in the crime to the Forty-Four. The red reiatsu-sealing collar was tight around her throat, and her green eyes were duller than normal with the weight of not only her impending doom, but also what she had done.

'_I killed three shinigami. With my Zanpakuto, I killed three comrades.'_

The idea was eating away at her, the idea that she was a murderess, that she committed treason. Well, maybe not the treason part so much, Soul Society is a bitch anyway, but the idea that she did it with the cold ruthlessness reserved for hollows. Was it even right to kill hollows like that? The Academy had ingrained it in her that hollows weren't anything worthy of mercy. No, they probably weren't, but did they really deserve the methodology that was used against them by shinigami? Ichimin already went against the rules they had put in her, had always gone against that one rule. They tell the students not to look at the hollow in the face when they die, to kill them from behind so that you never see their human faces and lose your will to kill them. Ichimin did the opposite. Ever since the first day, the very first hollow she killed, she had looked them in the face. She would see them when their masks split, she'd see them in their human faces. Was it wrong to wish to see whom exactly you killed? Their faces did haunt her at times. Sometimes they were pained. Sometimes they still looked hateful to her. And sometimes, they were smiling. Sometimes they were grateful. When others treated them like monsters, Ichimin had always given them the courtesy of seeing her face, and she would see theirs. It hurt her, but they deserved to be imprinted in her. She had taken their hollow lives, after all. It came with a price.

'_From the very beginning, I was never cut out to be a shinigami. I'm too human.'_

The door opened, and Ichimin was instantly alerted to screaming. Wailing cries of a female sort, aching agonized noises that were nearly painful to hear. Ichimin closed her eyes for a moment, before tracking the noises to be coming near her. A cell next to her was opened, and Ichimin opened her eyes and looked to see Momo being placed in a cell, strung-out and crazed. Ichimin moved to the bars of her cell, looking out at the Lieutenant as she was placed in a cell.

"What happened to her? What's happened?" Ichimin asked urgently, and the two shinigami putting Momo in the cell merely looked at her and snarled.

"A traitor doesn't deserve to know things involved in the organization they betrayed. But…Captain Aizen has been murdered."

Time stopped for Ichimin, and her blood ran cold.

"Wh…what?' She spoke, breathlessly. Her world was crashing down around her ears, and the shinigami seemed to notice the tragic look about the former Fifth seat.

"They found him pinned to a building around fifty feet up, impaled to the wall by his own Zanpakuto." The two of them looked uncomfortable by both the sobs from Momo's cell and the feeling of tangible despair from Ichimin's cell. It was highly uncomfortable to be down in the prisoner area, and the two quickly left Momo and Ichimin to their separate but similar tragedies. Momo lost her hero, her idol. Ichimin lost her lover, the only one she'd ever had actual feelings of affection for. Sure, she had stopped drinking alone with Ikkaku just for that one night they had gotten absolutely smashed and Ichimin woke up with a hangover equal to the fiery fire of a thousand fiery suns, nude and laying in bed with Ikkaku. She still didn't remember the sex beyond feeling her bare back against a wall and wrapping her legs around a waist, along with sloppy drunken kissing. That's all she could recall, and when Ikkaku woke up a few moments after she did to see himself in the same situation they had both sworn off ever drinking together alone ever again. Now they always brought somebody with them to keep them from repeating that little incident ever again. Sure, she'd had lovers. But they hadn't been loved like the deceased Captain had been.

Ichimin slipped from a standing position, down to her knees. White kosode being dirty be damned; she just couldn't support her weight on shaking legs any longer. She fell, numb, to the cell floor and stared at it dumbly. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening. What had she done to merit this? The woman was no saint, but she couldn't say that she was a devil either. Maybe she was. Maybe being a shinigami at all made her a devil. Maybe she deserved every misfortune to fall upon her. The demotion, the treason, the murder, the heartbreak. Maybe she deserved it for some unknown sin.

Dimly, she noticed that tears were dripping to the floor that she was staring upon. Was she crying? She was. And as soon as she saw that she was, dredged from her shocked numbness, the crushing heartbreak hit her. Momo's sobs were joined by another's, loud and agonized for misfortune and pain as of then unknown. The sound spurred Momo on, causing her to cry louder as did Ichimin. They wailed and shrieked like banshees, phantasms caught in the crux of tragedy. Those guarding the cells couldn't quiet them down no matter how urgently they attempted to hush the women, and eventually gave up and were forced to listen to the cries. It lasted a good while, hours it felt like. When Ichimin finally cried herself to exhaustion, she fell silent and remained merely there physically, her mind far from the current events. Even as Ichimin attempted to sleep and be freed of the recent events, she could still hear Momo. Momo, who hadn't been able to wind down yet and was still sobbing out garbled sentences and a particular name that Ichimin had no want of hearing. It nearly drove her mad, hearing Momo all through the night, and when the other finally fell asleep Ichimin was beyond relieved. She was close enough to madness already; hearing Momo throughout the night was no favor to her frail sanity.

Ichimin slept lightly that night, a pounding headache from crying keeping her from deep sleep. When she awoke, Ichimin moved back from the corner of her cell she'd been sleeping in and sat back in her chair, now waiting for what may come. She didn't have to wait long, as Captain Hitsugaya himself came down with Matsumoto at his side, most likely to deliver her fate. At the very least she would be stripped of her shinigami rank and powers. If that happened, then she was free of the duty to the organization she hated. Free to live in unending poverty once again, free to most likely become a prostitute or free to kill herself. Free to let herself be devoured by a hollow. Maybe life as a hollow would have been nicer. They seemed fulfilled enough eating souls; maybe hollows were the only ones experiencing the feelings of true accomplishment in what they did.

Ichimin noted that she must have looked like pure hell, but ignored it in favor of seeing the disapproving and almost tangible judgment in even Matsumoto's eyes. Ichimin didn't care enough to try and explain herself.

"Ichimin Kumorigachi, you have been sentenced to death by Sokyoku."

Her heart skipped a beat. Execution by Sokyoku meant that the soul could never be reborn. The reishi in the soul itself was disintegrated, meaning that she would completely disappear. Just like Rukia. Fancy that, two people to be executed in the exact same way.

"I understand." Ichimin said dully, lowering her eyes. Hitsugaya, noting that she understood, turned and headed for the door

"You will be escorted to the Shishinro shortly. Be prepared." He called back before Ichimin heard the door close. Matsumoto had not left yet, and simply remained there.

"Why did you do it?" She asked quietly, and Ichimin remained in her seat. She did smile a bit though, lifting her head to look straight upon Matsumoto. This smile, it was humorless and hopeless, the broken mask of a broken woman.

"You'd never believe me if I told you." Ichimin deadpanned wryly, and Matsumoto nodded a bit. She held no comfort in her eyes, any kind words or reassurances of her belief in Ichimin's innocence. Both women knew that there was no place for such inconsequential things here; they were useless to flounder upon, for the simple fact that Ichimin was not innocent.

"I suppose I wouldn't." Matsumoto finally broke the silence, closing her eyes and turning away. Neither said a goodbye to the other, not a single word. Ichimin watched Matsumoto hand something to Momo and say something, before leaving quickly as a squad came to escort Ichimin to the Shishinro, the Repentance Cell. Where her Zanpakuto was, she didn't know and could only suppose that it was in her Captain's office, to be destroyed at her death. Zanpakuto usually do that, anyway; they're part of their wielders souls, so when the wielder dies they crumble or shatter. When they came in, Ichimin stood and moved her head for them to connect the leash-like leads to the red reiatsu-sealing collar around her neck which conversely put the white cloth blind over her eyes. Why this was necessary Ichimin had no idea, but apparently it was important in some way so she wouldn't complain. They bound her hands behind her back, attached to her collar so that she wouldn't attempt to fight them off with what meager strength she may have possessed, an insignificant struggle considering that the woman had no reiatsu left to use against them. Probably to keep her from grabbing onto the bars of her cell and refusing to let go, resulting in a scene. Not that Ichimin particularly cared enough to make a scene; she would go quietly and with at least some shred of dignity left.

"Move along, we have a volunteer escort waiting above and he must be very busy." One of the four men leading her spoke, and she began to walk with them. The group moved at a steady walking pace, and Ichimin became accustomed to letting the men lead her wherever they would. They stopped after ascending some stairs and by the warmth she felt on her body, gone into the sunlight. Apparently, this official volunteer escort was here to lead the party to the Shishinro. Probably just some kid that wanted the spotlight or something.

"Heya Ichimin. You look like you're in some trouble then." A familiar voice spoke right in her ear, and she froze at the voice's owner.

"C…Captain Ichimaru?" She breathed out, shock highly obvious in her own voice. Her leads were tugged and she staggered back into motion, apparently ignored by Gin as she continued to be lead to her cell. It would be a month or so before she was executed, a month of looking out a window and staring at the Sokyoku.

They continued to walk for what felt like an eternity, and Ichimin could hear hushed voices around her as they walked. The words 'traitor' and 'monster' were the most popular, along with 'bitch' and a host of other derogatory terms. None of it mattered; they were all correct in their hatred of her. Hell, she deserved it. Let them say what they wanted of her. She could hear Gin chuckling a bit before her, before he spoke back.

"Well, you don't seem very popular anymore." He noted aloud, and Ichimin finally spoke.

"It's a mystery why." She stated, before being quickly shushed by the four leading her.

"Do not talk to Captain Ichimaru, prisoner. You haven't got the right." One hissed, and so Ichimin remained silent just to placate her leads. They continued walking a while longer, before she felt the terrain beneath her feet change from regular stone to a smoother version. They were no doubt closer to the Repentance Cell, and after climbing an extremely large flight of stairs on the way, they finally came to where the air was cooler and crisper. From what Ichimin could recall, they must be on that really long bridge right before the Shishinro. They moved in silence, as they had nearly the entire trip. Eventually they stopped and Ichimin felt the shadow of a huge building cover her from the glare of the sun, and a loud noise indicated that a large door opened before her.

Ichimin was lead inside, hesitating a moment at the rush of stale air as she neared the mouth of the white tower. The leads tugged at her reiatsu collar and she continued inside, feeling an unnatural coolness from the place on her skin. Stopping a few paces within, she felt the leads click free from her collar and the blind pulled away, to reveal to her a dark and depressing tower. Her hands were freed, and fell to her sides limply as she stared straight forward.

"You will reside here until the date of your execution. The windows within the tower will allow you to gaze upon the Sokyoku, the instrument of your death." One of the lead men told her as he was unbinding her wrists, and the five-man group began to shuffle away. Ichimin didn't bother watching them leave, merely remained still in her place. She did, however, feel someone hug her from behind.

"Aw, don't be like this Ichimin. I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't have wanted to see you so sad." Gin spoke quietly with his cheek against hers, and she could feel the sinister smile against her flesh. The venomous words were spoken with a certain sort of cruel kindness that made her flesh crawl even more than what he had said, which were answered with her completely stiffening. She broke out into a cold sweat, a feeling of raw terror at his presence that she recognized as what his subordinates must feel on a daily basis. Soon enough though, he let her go and watched her fall to her knees, trembling slightly. Good, Gin thought, his influence was just as powerful on her as anyone else. Granted that he felt a tiny bit guilty to do this to her, but then again, he was never one for being anything other than a creepy dick. So it passed quite quickly, and he stopped at the door to look at a small figure standing on the enormous stairway and wave to her.

"Hello Rukia dear, we've brought you a playmate." Gin Ichimaru called to her cheerfully, with a smile that could freeze the blood of any sane human being. Seeing Rukia take a step back at the turn of attention to her, he stepped back from the doorway outside the cell. As the door closed, he left one last chilling message with them.  
"I'll be seeing the both of you at the Sokyoku, girls. Looking forward to it."

The door shut completely and cut them off from the outside world, and Ichimin heard someone coming towards her. Lifting her head, she looked upwards at Rukia Kuchiki in an identical white kosode.

"Rukia." She spoke dryly, standing up as shakily as she spoke. The black-haired woman before her was looking with extreme confusion at Ichimin, as if something wasn't making sense to her in the slightest.

"Ichimin…what are you doing here?" Rukia queried, and instantly noticed that Ichimin's entire demeanor changed. She instantly smiled bitterly, walking over to the steps and sitting on them.

"You wouldn't have heard about what I did. Good ol' Kumorigachi killed three shinigami out of spite on her hollow extermination mission." She sighed, her head in her hands. Rukia moved and sat next to her, watching her closely.

"You did that? Why?" Rukia asked of her, and from her tone Ichimin could tell that she was slightly taken aback. Ichimin shrugged, leaning back and sighing to the high ceiling.

"When I was out there, I swear to whatever the hell sort of God that could ever exist that I saw them as hollows. They looked exactly like hollows to me. Three human-shaped hollows with Zanpakuto. And after I killed them, a group of other shinigami found me and arrested me. I could see them as shinigami then. I don't know how it happened, Rukia." Ichimin sighed, before looking over at her cell mate.

"So, you're going to be executed as well?" Rukia asked lightly, and Ichimin gave a nod.

"Execution by Sokyoku. Maybe we'll die the same day? It'd make sense." Ichimin stated, fully resigned to death. Nothing outside that she would ever desire except sake. And it was safe to say that she wouldn't be drunk ever again, which was a damn shame. Rukia looked upwards towards one of the high windows, standing.

"Those Ryoka. You know them?" Ichimin asked of Rukia, and the younger woman looked back down to her.

"I…yes. I think I do."

Ichimin smiled a bit, standing up and ascending the stairs.

"Then you've got a rescue party. Congrats Rukia."

She was smiling wryly as she passed Rukia, heading upwards a few stories and sitting in the sill of one of the huge windows. She stared out upon the Sokyoku, pondering this and that. Aizen was dead, all of her friends hated her, Gin was now tormenting her for the fun of it. Ah, the joys of life. At least she wouldn't have to worry about living in Rukongai again. Rukia passed her, heading further upwards to another window. Both felt that right now wasn't the time to talk, right after Ichimin was sentenced to death. They would talk later as the days of their lives ticked down sunrise by sunset, until the day of reckoning came and they would say their farewells to the world.

There would be no tears, neither for Ichimin or from her. There would be no tears.

* * *

**((Next chapter: An introspection on Ichimin's life, her methods, beliefs, and purpose, and a glimpse at her time as a living human three hundred years ago in the Edo period. Also, I've been told that I should whore out another story here since this story gets more attention than that one does. So if you enjoy this story, please check out 'The Ribbon Waltz' by myself. It's another OC story, with a human teenage thug that gets herself caught up in Aizen's plot and summarily kidnapped and incarcerated in Las Noches. It's a Grimmjow/OC story, by the way. There, I has whored out the story. Next time, guys!))**


	14. Shellshocked

**((Long introspection and a bit of Ichimin's history as a living human, coming along. An attempt to show what the shinigami must have gone through in WWII, and what I thought would've been essential for the world balance. Hollows wouldn't just exist in Japan, would they? Also, written in first person for a more personal feeling. And I know it jumps around, but they're written as thoughts while Ichimin waits on her execution so they would be kind of jumpy.))**

**

* * *

  
**

I never wanted it all to end up like this. I never expected it to end up like this.

My name is Ichimin Kumorigachi. My rank is former unranked member of Division Eight, under Captain Shunsui Kyoraku and Lieutenant Captain Ise Nanao in the illustrious Gotei Thirteen. I say former because there is no chance that they'll consider me a shinigami anymore. Not after what's happened.

I swear I saw them as hollows. They had masks, and they were colored black and had those damn masks. Did I say masks already? The mask is what I remember most about a hollow; it's the first thing I see and it's the last thing I see. They had Zanpakuto too, and maybe that's what should have tipped me off that something was horribly, horribly wrong. Maybe I should have seen how they didn't attack me like normal hollows do, maybe I should have recognized when the last hollow reached for me and attempted to speak to me. Even if I had stopped at him, it would've been too late anyway. I was doomed from the beginning, it feels like. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

I woke up in Seventy Eighth division of Rukongai, alone and so very hungry. It felt as if I hadn't eaten in ages. I, at my arrival to the Soul Society, was a tender four. An innocent little thing that hadn't a bit of knowledge about what she was about to live through, what she would grow up in. I learned quickly enough.

The children, they were treated like dogs. Scavengers that needed to be killed, disposed of. The children weren't welcome, as the children were those that might develop hunger and take away from the rest of the lowlifes in the hellish place. Only the hungry had any chance of salvation, because to be hungry meant that you had reiatsu. You could become a shinigami. You could have a better life.

I was always hungry. Always.

We grew up hearing how great the shinigami life was, how you always had food and you were rich and even had a house. A house! Something that was far out of reach for most, if any Seventy-Eighth divisioner. We all wanted to shinigami and have houses, not have to worry about where we were going to sleep or if we were going to eat again. To be a shinigami was the aspiration of every kid in Seventy-Eighth, even if the kid had no reiatsu. Those were the ones that died when they found out. They usually committed suicide. I was lucky; I had reiatsu.

Life was rough there. People would try and kill you, try and capture you, try and sell you off to other people as slaves. I saw many of my childhood friends die, I saw so many of them die. I saw them starve to death and just collapse, and I would say a goodbye to them and then leave. A five year old can't bury a body by herself. And so I left them, and sometimes I would come back by where they were left and they would still be there, now rotting corpses baking in the sun. Sometimes someone would toss a hole-filled sheet over their bodies to keep the smell down, if only a bit. I always remember their eyes. Glassy, dull. Dead.

I remember eating them in times of desperation. If I could strike it lucky, I would get them when they weren't too rotted yet and I could cook the meat enough to be edible. I also remember when I judged it wrong and nearly died from the food poisoning. After that, I stayed away from corpses and began to hunt for worms in the dirt. Worms and frogs and sometimes, I would catch a rat. Filthy lice-infested animals unfit for consumption by any living thing, and they were banquets to me. It was like my birthday whenever I found one.

My birthday. I never had one that I could remember. So I picked one.

I picked it to be on the day that I found a bottle of sake lying in the street.

I hid away, back to the abandoned house serving as my temporary home and that night, I drank the entire bottle. It was the intense feeling of drunkenness that I enjoyed the most, my young body feeling the effects stronger than an adult's. A complete numbness that to me had no competition. I loved it, from what I could remember of it. I didn't feel a thing. Now, the hangover next morning crippled me beyond a doubt. I didn't eat that night because nothing would stay down, and that next day I was still suffering the shock of the first bottle of alcohol into my system. It would be my first out of many, I would eventually come to know, and I would come to rely on that numbness more than anything else.

My birthday is July Seventh. And every July Seventh since that day, I've had one bottle of sake to celebrate. It's the one night where I only drink a measured amount, the only night that I remain sober enough to remember my name. That's the night that I talk with friends, listen to them and we have a good roaring time drinking. Except I don't swallow the alcohol when I'm with them. I spit it back into the jug and then give it to someone else. I'm a good enough actress when it comes to being drunk; they never suspect a thing and to everyone else, they think that on July Seventh, I get rip roaring drunk with them on Tanabata. I only went with them to the actual festival once, and I wore a yukata like they wanted me to. Momo and Izuru, and Renji. Ikkaku, Yumichika and Hisagi came along too with Renji. This was before I really met them. We went out together and we messed around the festival for my birthday, we ate and Renji and Ikkaku and Hisagi and Yumichika attempted to make Izuru drink. I had fun there. It was back when I was new, when I didn't know what shinigami would see and do. We spent the night out, they went off to do some more Tanabata drinking, Momo went back to Fifth and I came back home, to restart my ritual.

After they go home or go off to pass out or fuck a cheap slut somewhere, I go back home to my room. I sit down, and I pull out a bottle of the same cheap sake that I found three hundred years ago sitting in the road. I sit in the dark, I stare out the window at the fireworks and the people dancing and cavorting without a care in the world. And I drink.

Tanabata is my birthday. Tanabata is the day that I began to drink. Tanabata is the day that I drink only one bottle, and Tanabata is the day that I remember everything I've seen and done. I've seen horrible things. I've done worse.

The first real shock came to me when I was put out on patrol through a small, remote part of Japan. I was witness to arson. While standing against the wall of a building, watching for hollows, I saw a mousy middle-aged man hurry up towards the building where I was. He couldn't see me, but I moved anyway and watched him light the fire to the wick of the bottle and throw it in the window. A Molotov cocktail.

I remember the heat, the hot air blowing against my skin out from the window as the fire took. I remember watching that mousy arsonist run away, never to be seen again. But most of all, I remember the screaming of the people inside the building. I knew I couldn't save them, being merely a soul, but I couldn't leave no matter how badly I wanted to. Someone had to stay for the Konso, lest they become vengeful hollows. And so I stayed, I listened to the people scream in high-pitched shrieks of pain. I listened to them scream out for God to help them, closed my eyes and attempted to block it out. The children crying inside made sure I couldn't. I waited until the people quieted, went silent as the grave and the fire had burnt itself out.

What I remember most about that patrol mission was the screams. The screams, and how I had to look every single one of those victims in the face when I Konso'd them. They were all hysterical; they wanted to know what happened, how it happened, _why_ it happened. I explained that they were all deceased and that I was a shinigami, and I was going to send them to the afterlife.

I wanted to die when the kids asked me if it was like Heaven.

"Y…yeah, it's like Heaven. Now everyone, line up, before the hollows show up and…uh…gobble you up?" I attempted to use childish vernacular to appeal to them, and it worked. I Konso'd fifteen souls that day, and the arsonist got away completely free. And that patrol mission was one of many that were carved into my mind.

People say being a shinigami is the life. That there isn't anything better. I'd rather have died a second time as a child than live through this.

Back when I was a kid, I almost did die. That one other brat cut my throat and ran off with my goddamn bread. A Fourth division hopeful saved me. Sometimes I wish that he'd have left me in the gutter. Be dead, instead of sending the souls of rapists and murderers to Rukongai. These people got to go to Rukongai! Just because they repented. I'm pretty sure not half of them were actually sorry for what they'd done, but all the same I had to send them to Soul Society. I did.

But…out of all my memories…what I remember most vividly is World War II. All the shinigami were overworked in that span of time, all of us were nearly always gone out on missions to battlefields and bombed towns. They called them 'Konso missions' from the sheer number of souls that needed sending. We were souls, but that didn't mean that explosions or shrapnel couldn't harm us. Many good shinigami were blown to pieces in that time as we ran across those mine fields, hoping to whatever the fuck kind of god that could let this shit happen that we didn't step on one. But we were shinigami, we had our duty to the souls, and so we walked the battlefields like angels, sending those good souls to Rukongai and watching as the evil were cast into Hell. I sent a good amount of evil to Rukongai as well, just for that repenting loophole. I watched good men dragged away by hollows scavenging around the battlefields for good meals; I saved a few of them. I lost a lot of them.

We saw atrocities that no one should ever witness. The entire group saw things no one should witness. I was far older than the rest of the shinigami under me; a good deal of those serving in my Konso squad were new, and had no idea about what we were going to see. I felt for them. They were bright-eyed shinigami that believed in justice and honor. They hadn't seen war.

They saw war.

We went everywhere; shinigami were so overworked that some were nearly dead from exhaustion. I was one of them, being a ranked member in Eighth. Back then I was ranked Tenth seat, but was still ranked and therefore had many duties to attend to. Much more than regular unseated shinigami. We went to Nanjing, we saw our living countrymen rape young children and old women upwards of fifteen times before burning them alive. We were the angels that their souls first saw. Our shihakusho were ragged and torn from shrapnel, we had hastily applied bandages wrapped too-tightly over bleeding hollow wounds, and our eyes looked so very, very _tired_. We had no smiles for them, no comforting words left. Merely told them that we were messengers here to send them to the afterlife, and prepared to send them to Rukongai.

Rukongai was hell now, with all the overcrowding going on. Even the lower numbered districts were starting to feel the pressure of it, starting to become more dangerous in the search for water and food. The higher ranked districts were deathtraps for these people; Seventy-Eighth was a bloodbath, and what happened to them while alive was probably going to happen to them again in death.

They asked me if it was like Heaven.

"No, it's not like Heaven." I remember saying with an odd dull weight to my voice, drawing my Zanpakuto and pressing it to the child's forehead. He turned into a Hell Butterfly and floated away, as my squad sent the other souls. We tracked the battalion through the city, sending those that they killed. There were so many of them. We were angels of the battlefield, ragged souls trekking through Hell and back for our duties, for the souls of valiant soldiers and innocent civilians alike.

This went on for six years. Six years of going into the battlefields, of seeing carnage and inhumanity as a normal day-to-day occurrence. We stepped over bodies like tree limbs, dodged gunfire as if it were normal. And it was.

Other shinigami got it worse. The carnage was so widespread that shinigami for other countries needed our assistance. Japan isn't the only place with shinigami and Seireitei, though they have different names for themselves and their own versions of Rukongai and Seireitei. Some of us were sent to Germany to assist there. They called themselves the Engels, and their version of Seireitei was the Königreich while their Rukongai was the Zuhause. We were sent there, as Japan had the biggest number of shinigami. We shinigami, the 'death gods' were called Tod by the German Engels. I served a term in Germany with the Engels as a Tod, assisting in defeating the prolific hollows coming from all the deaths happening in the death camps and the current hollows turning the banquet of souls into even more hollows, which was the main concern for all of the different countries and their own shinigami. 'Hollow' was the universal term; every shinigami or Engel or anyone else understood it. I had enough German to live through it by, and I only saw the Königreich once, when we made a stop for supplies. The buildings were differently designed than Seireitei's, not ancient Japanese but modern German in build. They were towering gray brick buildings, looming over the slightly unnerved Tod, including myself. I remember walking after a Kapitän (Engel equivalent of a Seireitei Captain. The Lieutenant Captains were called Kapitänleutnant) leading us to the respite building, a man by the name of Deitrich Austerlitz. He was a blond haired, blue-eyed young man and from what I could tell, he was more supportive of the Nazi party down in the Living World than he should have been. We were supposed to be unbiased in our soul collecting, but Germany and its Engels were having more of a problem with their shinigami remaining unbiased in what souls they protected from hollows. Anti-Semitism even follows you into the afterlife, apparently.

I spent a year in Germany with the Engels, even got to spend time in a gigai down in the Living World and see the Nazis close up. Some scary bastards, they were. I remember one incident where one nearly shot me through the head because I misunderstood him. Japanese does not equal fluent German, especially since I didn't know the exact phrase for 'I am not Jewish'. Actually, that visit in the gigai didn't last very long because, me not having the correct papers made them think that I was Jewish and then I was shoved on a train to Auschwitz, if I remember correctly. I stayed in the train to send the people that died in the compartment, got out with the others and then ditched the gigai and headed back to Königreich. Soon after, I requested to return to Seireitei and was sent home to be put back on Konso mission duty. I was pretty happy about going back home and being out of Germany and away from the Engels. The tension between the unbiased and the Nazi supporters was horribly thick in the air. The rest of the war I spent in Japan, serving in the Living World with a small squad.

I remember when they dropped the atomic bomb.

We were recovering in some small nameless town in the Living World, resting and eating and preparing to go out again. The advance squads, like mine, almost never went back to Seireitei. Maybe once a month or so for supplies, but those times were few and far in between. There was only one other reason for me to visit Seireitei, and I would rather have sat in the Living World for the entire war than had to go back for that reason. When one of my subordinates was killed.

I lost so many of them, some of them to landmines, some of them to hollows, some of them to bomb shrapnel; if Aizen was looking that night we slept together, he probably would have seen that large disfiguring scar across my side. I wasn't immune to shrapnel either; a bomb went off when I was running past it and it damn near killed me. That was the second time in my life I could consider a near-death experience, the first being when my throat got cut. It's amazing I didn't get gangrene or something. Can shinigami get gangrene? I don't know. I saw enough of it on the living humans.

After a long while of recuperating and rest (by long while, I mean three days. That was a nice goddamn vacation to us), we were sent out on an urgent mission to Hiroshima. We were one of the first teams to arrive there, and we immediately knew that this is what Hell was like.

Everything was gone, really, except for the few groups of people still alive after the blast. Some of them had no eyes, some of them were missing limbs, and thousands of them were dead. We had so much work, so many souls wandering around listlessly and so many hollows mauling the souls they could. So much tragedy. We were all numb by then; at least we thought we were.

I wish I had been as numb to it as I wanted to be.

We Konso'd from morning until night, over and over again so much that my arm became sore from pressing the hilt of my Zanpakuto to their foreheads. Rukongai would no doubt become even worse after this bomb dropped. I had heard that shinigami were also among the casualties; those stationed there to protect against hollows had inadvertently become victims as well. I could ignore the cries by now, those from the humans injured in the blast. A few days into it we heard that another bomb had been dropped on Nagasaki. We remained in Hiroshima until the huge cloud of hollows that was hovering around the city was dispelled, the citizens Konso'd and the war officially ended.

We went home, but there was no cheering for the end of the war. We were beaten, broken men and women in the shinigami service and it could be seen. A lot of comrades, a lot of friends died in that war, leaving our ranks thinned considerably. Those who were left were changed; I finally sat down with Renji, Hisagi, Ikkaku, Yumichika and Matsumoto again for a good drink that very night. We all needed it, I could tell as soon as we sat down. We were all silent that night. No one would say anything about what we had each gone through, and no one asked. We didn't know what the others had gone through, but we all knew that what we had gone through were things that we couldn't forget fast enough. We had a silent drink that night, and we didn't drink together for a long time afterwards. We were all torn up over it. I looked like hell, myself. I was still bandaged up heavily from my side being torn up by that shrapnel, I had scars from hollow bites, and I was so tired. So very, very tired. We didn't get a grace period for breaks either, because there were still so many more hollows to deal with and more souls to send.

That was all fifty years ago.

We're mainly back to normal now, but I drink so heavily that it's a wonder I haven't gotten some sort of liver problem because of it. If shinigami can't have liver failure due to alcoholism, I'm sure I'll be the first victim of it. Well, I would've been the first victim of it since I'm going to be executed by Sokyoku and blown out of existence and all.

Right now I'm laying flat on my back, on the cool floor of one of the levels. I don't know where Rukia is; it's been a few days since I was put in here, and the reiatsus outside keep moving so wildly that I can't even keep track of them sometimes. It's her friends, I bet. They've come to save her. I hope they make it, even if I already know that they won't. I still hope they do.

…

I had a weird dream last night. It wasn't the usual ones about something weird or something about what I've seen in the past. It wasn't like a dream at all, but some sort of clear image of something I've never been through before.

I was crawling. I remember crawling so very slowly, and seeing my arms. They were deadly thin. It felt like I had something in my lungs and I tried to cough it up, but all I could manage was a weak gag and then intense pain from the act of swallowing a moment later. I didn't try it again, even though my breaths were shallow and wet. I didn't feel that hungry either, even though when I saw my small torn and ragged pale pink kimono, it hung off my frame like a tent. When I tried to make some noise to someone passing by me as I crawled and alert them to my state of pain, it came out in a strangled hiss of air and a barely audible whimper. They ignored me and continued on, my movements so very painful as I went. I kept going but my movements slowed down, the act of crawling becoming too much for my small frame as I went. I made it to the middle of a street where people were carrying this and that, doing household tasks or attempting to find some sort of food before I collapsed on the road. I just couldn't move anymore, even though the hot sun was burning down on me. People stepped over me or sometimes even stepped right on my hands or my shoulders, ignoring the twitching child underneath their feet as they continued on.

I thought back to two people with faces blurred from my memories, what I now presume to be my parents back when I was alive. We were happy in our little home and I was a spry little child, and then the next I knew, there was screaming and running and then so much ash everywhere. Those two adults died, and I was alone. I wandered until I couldn't wander anymore and then fell, right in that spot in the middle of the road. I couldn't swallow for the pain of it, could barely even blink. And then, I felt terror grip me as my lungs filled up with the fluid I couldn't cough up, and I began to asphyxiate. At the last moment, I summoned the energy to let out a loud cough and ride out the pain as I cleared my airway, to see the bloody stuff in my lungs in the dirt in front of my face. I couldn't do anything anymore. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't…couldn't anything. Closing my eyes, I went to a sleep thick and smothering, more so than any other I'd ever experienced.

So now I know how I died. That helps me so much when I'm about to die again.

I was sleepy again, and rolled onto my side. Rukia was busy with whatever. I had time to sleep. Nothing much else to do on Death Row.

* * *

**((Well, the introspective chapter is done. Next chapter: Ganju and Hanatarou's attempt to save Rukia. Back to third person next chapter.))**


	15. Kyokkou

Ichimin Kumorigachi spent those days before her execution date slumbering, washed in memories she hadn't visited in years, the occasional memory of Aizen or with her Zanpakuto spirit. She spent a lot of her time with her Zanpakuto spirit, mostly, because her soul was a refuge that had no compare to her. Not even Aizen's company would ever be as safe as that place in her soul that she could retreat to in times like this. At first, she ignored Kyokkou's calls and asks for her to visit it, but after a day of being ignored it just dragged her in anyway. She had closed her eyes a moment to rest and opened them to sitting in a grassy field, underneath a large gnarled Yew tree.

"You've been ignoring me." A voice spoke beside her, and Ichimin turned slightly to look upon Kyokkou's form. A young man with a large scar on the left side of his face, the flesh holding a particular mark as if the left side of his face had been horribly burnt. His left eye was a milky, cloudy color and completely useless, but even though she was on that side of him, she could still see that he was watching her in his own sort of way. It felt as if he were, in any case.

"Yeah, I have." Ichimin answered him, not about to lie to him. He was she after all; it would just make up a paradox if they lied to one another and that would just give her a headache and in return, give him a headache as well. Neither of them was a masochist, so they wanted to avoid headaches. Ichimin leaned back against the trunk of the large tree, looking out at the familiar scenery. It was what seemed to be an unending field, long soft grass underneath the two of them. The tree itself was sitting on a huge cliff, and if one were to step around the tree, they would see a huge drop from the edge of the cliff to the bottom, what seemed to be a pool of water. Ichimin never dared to jump, for fear of what it would do to her. The sky was usually clouded, and never ever was it completely blue. Ichimin couldn't recall the last time she saw a blue sky, or even saw the sun out. At the very edges of vision, the start of a huge field of golden grain was visible, a field of grain that circled around and isolated the field. Ichimin had always wondered what would happen if she just started walking. Would she make it to the grain? Would she go past? Kyokkou never wanted her to go find out, because when he called her there was always something of great importance to speak about.

"Why is this?" He asked her in his light tone, looking at her with his good eye. It was of a brilliant blue, deep and piercing. His long ponytail of sun-colored blond hair swayed as he turned his head slightly, the lightest color of blond imaginable. He was wearing bloodstained clothes, gray in color and flowing. They were ripped and torn here and there, as if from blades or claws and though she couldn't see them, Ichimin knew he was heavily scarred underneath them. And he always, always smelt of sake. That could be her fault, she didn't know. But she knew that he absolutely hated that smell, and she felt a measure of guilt over it.

"…I'm afraid." Ichimin said it quietly, staring up at the clouded sky. She wouldn't admit it to anyone else but Kyokkou, not even to herself. Though Kyokkou was a part of herself, after all; but that was another painful paradox that she didn't feel like conquering. The Zanpakuto spirit nodded his head gravely, looking back down to the grass underneath them.

"I know." Was all he said, brushing his hand along the grass. They remained quiet a moment longer, not wanting to break the peace as a cool breeze rolled across the field, blowing their hair back a bit and swirling across them. Ichimin opened her eyes again after it had gone, looking back to Kyokkou. He was thinking, she could tell.

"What are you afraid of, Ichimin? You say that you have nothing left." Kyokkou queried, and Ichimin closed her eyes gently. She knew the questions were coming, and her Zanpakuto spirit always asked the worst of questions.

"I don't. He's dead, I've lost all ranking and/or prestige I've ever held in Soul Society, and all of my friends want me dead and believe I'm a killer." She said simply, staring off at the field of gold at the edge of her vision. Another slight breeze; Kyokkou didn't wait for it to end before he spoke again.

"It seems you don't. Then what are you afraid of losing?"

The question was odd, to Ichimin. She knew he would ask these sorts of questions; she just didn't know if he would go about it in a roundabout manner or break her down into a sobbing mess like he was wont to do. Kyokkou may be a version of herself, but that didn't mean that he was always kind.

"…I don't know." She answered him, and felt his singular eye trained on her again.

"You're lying to me." He said simply, a tone of not quite anger in his voice, but displeasure. Nearly the entirety of Ichimin's shinigami career had been spent behind a smiling mask; the woman was drenched in lies. Kyokkou always hated lies. Ichimin wouldn't shy away from Kyokkou; she had called his name all those years ago knowing what she was getting into as soon as she heard his voice. This young man was a section of her very own soul; he was the painful truth that she so often tried to ignore or smother away. He was Truth, and he was the only one who was ever able to break her down to her most base level of being.

"I don't know what I'm afraid of losing, Kyokkou." She told him firmly, but her resolve crumbled beneath his piercing gaze.

"Yes you do. You just don't want to admit you'll miss it." The displeasure was gone from his voice now, and that hollowness in it hurt her more than if he had been screaming in her face. He never had to scream or even raise his voice; his words were more powerful when he remained in his somber manner, speaking quietly. Ichimin shook her head, her eyes closed still.

"I'm not going to miss that. I won't. I'm glad I won't have it anymore." She stated, feeling the pain of guilt rising like sea foam in her soul. She heard him chuckle; it was hollow and pained, and it hurt her to hear.

"You were always difficult when it came to the truth, Ichimin." Ichimin watched him stand, beginning to walk with a heavy limp. A branch of the gnarled yew tree had been taken down and used as a walking stick for him; he was so young, early to mid twenties in appearance, but he was crippled. And the shinigami knew that his pain was her pain, the kind she tried to drown late at night with the bottle. Ichimin moved to her feet and began to follow him, walking at his side.

"I was always the liar, you mean." She smiled pained, and he mimicked it with a pained smile of his own.

"Indeed; you were always a deceiver. I never understood why." Kyokkou spoke again, continuing to walk along the endless field with Ichimin. She meandered along, thinking through the contemplative silence. She would have to speak; it was her turn. They had turns.

"It wasn't my intention to be this way when I first joined the shinigami." Ichimin said bluntly, a tone of near-annoyance in her voice. She heard Kyokkou laugh then, a low chuckle. He almost never laughed.

"Was it anyone's?" The Zanpakuto spirit said cryptically, gently smiling sideways to her. She laughed as well, closing her eyes and shaking her head gently.

"No, I don't think so. Pretty sure we didn't sign up for half of the shit we had to go through." Ichimin spoke, and the young man walking next to her looked up at the clouded sky.

"You signed up for being a soldier, Ichimin. You just weren't informed in what being a soldier entailed." Kyokkou stated simply, and she nodded in knowing that he was right. He was the part of her that couldn't lie, and so he spoke nothing but the truth. And sometimes, he could break her down and shatter whatever comfort lies she was resting on. He did it so that she could stand on her own feet instead, become stronger through the pain of it.

"…You're right. I didn't know what I was getting myself into; I only saw that paycheck and the opportunity for food." Ichimin admitted, and Kyokkou nodded sagely.

"A wise reason to take a job. We would have died by now, if you had not."

The shinigami nodded as well, continuing to walk. Kyokkou wasn't done yet, she could tell, and so she waited for him as he closed his eyes and felt another breeze loll across the field.

"You won't miss it? Not even in the slightest?" He asked her again, and she hesitated. The memories, blurred but still present, of drinking with Renji and Ikkaku and Yumichika and Hisagi came to mind. She'd miss drinking with them. Ichimin didn't have to say it for Kyokkou to know, but she said it anyway.

"I'll miss them." She said, thinking that it was the great epiphany that Kyokkou was trying to bestow upon her. It wasn't, because he continued walking along.

"Yes, you will. But that realization is not what I am seeking from you." He told her simply, and she groaned in frustration.

"Can't you just…give me a hint, Kyokkou? Something at all?" She beseeched him, and he laughed again.

"I thought you were prideful enough not to beg like a child. Or a hungry dog." He lightly scolded her in his own way, and she flushed in embarrassment. Or maybe it was anger at him for getting the better of her, as he always did and always would. Who could really know.

"I'm not begging, I'm _beseeching._" She added inflection to the last word, and saw him smile at it. Ichimin laughed lightly, and he spoke with humor in his voice.

"You do know that begging and beseeching are the same thing, no?" Kyokkou teased very lightly, and she stopped and thought a moment.

"…Well damn." She sighed, and he smiled warmer while turning away for a moment. Ichimin liked seeing him smile; it meant that she herself was content at that moment, but mostly, she felt bad for inflicting those injuries on him with her own inner pain. He looked like a war veteran, crippled from a battle that only existed within her soul.

"You know what I am hinting at." He said quite simply, and she felt tears in her eyes as she smiled at the sky.

"…Yeah, I do." Her voice wavered slightly, and he turned to face her, stopping. He had lost the air of warmth and amusement, and now was stern and austere.

"Then say it." He ordered, and she hesitated a moment before speaking, feeling hot tears on her face.

"Despite how much I hate it and hate what I've done…" Ichimin began, hanging her head like a crying child.

"Being a shinigami is all I've ever done, and all I could ever do. I'm…I don't know how to do anything else." She finally admitted, and felt a hand on her shoulder as she cried. It wasn't warm at all, but it was a certain sort of soothing that none else could bring her as he pulled her closer, her forehead lying gently on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Ichimin. I've wanted to hear you say that for a very long time. And now that we are facing our death, I want us to die together, as one and as completed as possible." Kyokkou spoke gently, almost like an elder brother. But Ichimin and Kyokkou both knew that they were not even close to being family. He was she, and she was he. They were always going to together; they had been from that first moment of a child opening her eyes in the hellish Heaven that was Rukongai and they would be when the Sokyoku fell upon them and destroyed them forever.

"You should go back. It's not good for you to spend all your time in your own soul; try and take care of what situation seems to be happening in the real world." Kyokkou told her cryptically, and she looked up with confusion in his one brilliant and laughing blue eye, an amused smile on his lips. She was about to ask what he was talking about, but tears blurred her vision and she closed her eyes to wipe them away for a quick moment. As soon as she opened her eyes to look at him again though, he and her calming field were gone and she was lying in the middle of the Shishinro's floor.

Two people were standing in the doorway of what shouldn't have been opened by anyone not here to escort them to their executions; a dull-looking young man that was vaguely familiar and a man she'd never seen before, in some semi-stupid looking outfit with fireworks strapped to him like bombs. Ichimin watched the fireworks guy shout at Rukia, who was standing next to her head and staring. She didn't understand what they were talking about, but stood up and got into the argument anyway.

"Whatever your goddamn problem is with Rukia, kindly bitch about it when I'm not here. Now tell me, what the fuck is going on here." She ordered with all the power of a seated division member, something she didn't lose when she lost the title. The young dull-looking young man shrank from the tone and she looked at him more closely, seeing what was so familiar about him.

"You're…Hanatarou Yamada! That little dip that started shouting when I was hung over that one time that I can barely remember!" Ichimin exclaimed in remembrance, and he nodded a bit. His rough companion asked who the hell she was, and she sighed at his answer.

"Ichimin Kumorigachi, demoted from Fifth seat of Eighth division to unseated because of drinking problems, and then sentenced to death for murdering her team on a hollow extermination mission." Hanatarou told this guy, whose name the death row inmate caught as being Ganju.

"Listen, ya both got it wrong. I'm not going to tell you the truth, because doing that would be time-consuming and you'd never believe me anyway. Now what are you doing here?"

They more or less ignored her, before the next sequence of events happened in one big movie that Ichimin was stuck catatonic within. They all felt and saw Byakuya Kuchiki approaching their location, and Hanatarou walked off to go fend him off. Ganju ran after him, attacking Byakuya after dragging Rukia outside. Ichimin followed, and watched Ganju get owned by Byakuya. Then, Captain Ukitake showed up and kept Kuchiki from annihilating the entire group, after he did his pretty flowery petals of doom trick on Ganju. Rukia and Ichimin nearly collapsed, from their lack of reiatsu and their weakness to it from the Sekki-Sekki walls in the Shishinro.

Then, another weirdo showed up.

He had bright orange hair, and was bandaged to hell. But he and Rukia stared at each other and Ichimin knew that this was that Ichigo guy Rukia had been telling her about when she felt the need to talk and felt up to it. He walked past her, blew past Ichimin, went and stood off against Kuchiki like a complete moron. His face looked damn familiar, but Ichimin couldn't place whom he looked like. Who the hell did he look like? It was killing Kumorigachi, stuck in a deep bit of confusion. When they exerted their reiatsus, Ichimin collapsed from being unable to take it and merely watched from her paralysis on the ground.

And someone ELSE showed up about then.

"Cap…tain…Shihoin." Ichimin was able to mumble in shock. The dark-skinned woman with deep purple hair and the bright golden catlike eyes hadn't been seen around Seireitei for nearly a century. Ichimin didn't know Yoruichi personally, but she remembered that the woman had a joviality about her that was only matched by her friend/accomplice Kisuke Urahara. Ichimin didn't know either of them beyond their names and the occasional 'Hello, how are you, goodbye' formalities, but she had remembered when the two left in a great show, around the time those other Captains disappeared. Ichimin was one of the few left with a Captain after it all had happened, and had been there to watch the Gotei Thirteen rebuild itself afterwards. And now, a relic of the past was punching her hand into the wounded orange-haired guy's wounds, and flash stepping out of Byakuya Kuchiki's grip. Ichimin had never seen Byakuya Kuchiki outflashed before, and after she was gone, the stoic Captain just…left.

'_Must have been bored. Blueblooded prick.'_ Ichimin thought bitterly, before Sentaro and Kiyone made their appearance. Their loud, dramatic, stalkerish appearance while proclaiming their adoration for their Captain. The two of them took Ichimin and Rukia back within the tower while Ukitake apologized. Ichimin didn't blame him at all for doing it. She would've done the same thing, probably. Yamada and Ganju were taken away, and Ichimin and Rukia were left in their tower. After they regained their strength, Rukia went to the top of the tower to be alone and Ichimin remained at the bottom to give her space.

'_That was interesting.'_ She heard Kyokkou say musingly to her. She mentally sighed, rolling over in her corner of the room.

'_Just…shut up, Kyokkou.'_

_

* * *

_

**((AN: Next chapter: the execution day. I'm excited to finally get moving along again, so get ready for…awesomeness, I guess. Oh, and more Aizen. And some mindfuckery. See you all next chapter.))**


	16. Chosen by God

The doors to the Shishinro opened again, and Ichimin Kumorigachi was standing before them. She was ready. She had been waiting for a while. Through the window, she had seen people buzzing around the Sokyoku, the instrument that would end her life. She got the idea of it being today as to how many people were preparing for an execution. A double execution.

Rukia was next to her, and their normal and calm states seemed to throw the men escorting them off-guard for a moment. They soon regained their composure, moving around the two women to attach their arms behind their backs again, this time without the use of the white blinds. Ichimin and Rukia didn't look at each other. There was no need to. They had spoken before, said their goodbyes, and prepared to leave the world. Ichimin had spoken with her Zanpakuto a final visit earlier that day, told Kyokkou her goodbyes. Told him how grateful she was that he had been there with her, how she could never have wanted a better Zanpakuto or Zanpakuto spirit. He had smiled at that, smiled in the truest and kindest of ways. He told her that he never could have wanted a better wielder, and that their years together were well spent. She hugged him, and it surprised him to a large degree. He hugged her back in a slow sort of goodbye, before she left her inner world and found Rukia in meditation, probably doing the same thing with Sode no Shirayuki. Her Zanpakuto's name was one of the many things they had spoken of during the quickly shortening time before their execution, and Ichimin slowly felt a bit of regret that she didn't really speak with Rukia beforehand. They had a lot in common, and Ichimin had grown attached to the other, younger woman.

The two were led out across the bridge, which Ichimin could finally see the view from. It was spectacular. They walked in solemnity, before a spike of reiatsu fading out suddenly could be felt. Ichimin ad Rukia jerked to the edge of the bridge, before Ichimin closed her eyes and stepped back towards her leads. Renji's reiatsu had been so strong; she couldn't even tell it was him. But it was gone now, and she knew what had happened.

"Renji…why did you do it…" She heard Rukia say quietly, before a chilling reiatsu cut them both from their thoughts. Ichimin turned, to stare in an abstract terror at her former friend.

"Good morning, girls." Gin Ichimaru greeted them with his ubiquitous smile, and Ichimin turned her head away. He continued, heading towards them. "How are you two today?" The coldly amused question came in feigned concern, and Ichimin turned her eyes slightly to watch him carefully.

"Gin Ichimaru." She heard Rukia say, before she muttered her own variation of "Gin." The silver-haired Captain tsked openly.

"Such rude manners; Captain. Gin. Ichi. Maru." He cut up the words for them to insult their intelligence; Ichimin felt an amount of quickly warming hate within her.

"Now now, your brother will scold you, Rukia dear. And your boyfriend would have been very disappointed to hear your dirty Rukongai mouth, Ichimin-chan." He chided them, and Ichimin's shoulders obviously jerked at the word 'boyfriend'. Rukia had had the good taste not to ask earlier, and she was too distracted to ask now. Rukia apologized, and Ichimin also did it very begrudgingly.

"Forgive me, Captain Ichimaru. Once a Rukon rat…" she trailed off, glaring hard at him as she spoke the rest of the sentence. "…Always a Rukon rat." In response, Gin smiled and shrugged to them. "Don't worry, I won't tell on you two." He assured them with an almost childish shrug and his omnipresent smile.

"We're friends, aren't we?" He asked them, and Ichimin begrudgingly nodded. Rukia spoke next, as Ichimin had lost the ability to speak. "What are you doing here, Captain Ichimaru?" She asked him tentatively, and he just looked off in the distance.

"Oh, nothing important. Just thought I'd take a walk." He told them, before meeting both of their gazes with the most sinister of smiles.

"Maybe tease you two a little bit." He said it in a sickly sweet way, and once more Ichimin froze with the terror that she now knew and lamented Izuru for experiencing every day and night. He glanced off again, though it was barely possible to tell when he was looking and when he wasn't, towards the place where Renji had died.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. Seems he's alive, still. Renji, that is." Gin said smiling, glancing back. Rukia ran to the edge of the bridge again, though Kumorigachi didn't. She was frozen underneath Ichimaru's gaze, and she could feel him staring down with all the intensity of a hungry serpent. Ichimin couldn't move, couldn't blink. Couldn't even breathe. He broke their gaze and Ichimin sucked in an audible breath, as Gin contemplated something and spoke.  
"He'll probably die soon, you know." He told Rukia, and she glared hard at him. "Poor boy, and all he was doing was trying to save you two. Well, maybe not _both_ of you…" He teased Ichimin in his roundabout manner, pissing her off more and more by the second. How was she so blind earlier, to his cruel ways? She thought them funny, because she never experienced them herself.

"Yes, doesn't death get so much more terrifying when you consider the lives of your friends? Not that some people even have too many friends anymore, but I digress." He taunted Ichimin again, and she turned her head away from him to break eye contact. But a single sentence snapped her wide eyes right back into his trap.

"Would you like me to save you two?" He said it almost kindly, and that sentence reminded her so much of Aizen for one brief moment in time. Rocked to the core, she couldn't speak and Rukia asked her question for her. "W…what?" Rukia breathed, and the guards immediately scrambled.

"Captain Ichimaru, what are you talking about?!" was the collective response, and Gin ignored them to continue on. "If I wanted to, I could rescue you girls. Right now. You, and the others…those friends of yours, dear Rukia…" he cooed, and Ichimin found herself hanging on every word. He reached forward to the two, and for one cruelly kind second, Ichimin actually had hope in her heart. Hope that he was going to save her from death, hope that he cou-

"Just kidding." He said quite simply as his hand laid on Rukia's head and his other curved under Ichimin's head to support her jaw, smiling on the two of them with the cruelest, most acidic and beyond venomously kind smile he had in his arsenal.

Rukia froze, her eyes wide. Ichimin's knees dropped out, and it was only Gin's hand holding her from falling to the ground. He saw the tears in her eyes, the agony tearing at her and he smiled. He smiled even wider while staring into her teary eyes, flicking a thumb across her cheek as one tear ran down, wiping it away.

"Don't be sad, Ichimin-chan." He crooned to her almost calmingly as she hung there, limp in his grip and at his complete mercy. Gin was having far too much fun with a woman he wouldn't be able to torment soon enough, and so he was getting in his blows when they would hurt her the most. Maybe he could cripple her soul forever; he very much hoped that his words today left a permanent scar across the body of that poor Zanpakuto spirit Kyokkou she had told him about before. Gin leaned in, enjoying how she was hanging fully dependent on him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke.

"_I'm sure your boy would have been very proud to see you here today."_

He let go of her and she dropped to her knees before him, the most wonderful sort of agony in her eyes, an insurmountable pain that was absolutely gorgeous on her.

"Goodbye, ladies. I'll see you girls at the Sokyoku. Still looking forward to it." He called back as he turned around, beginning to walk away along the long, pale bridge. Ichimin stared down at the material below her knees, already seeing bland tears spotting the bridge. He had broken whatever resolve she had into pieces; he was absolute, a twisted version of her very own controller, the one who could always hurt her in the most devious and painful of ways. Like a vengeful God that could break her down just as Kyokkou could, she now realized. Kyokkou did it for her own good. Gin did it to watch her burn, be caught in a scalding fire that would leave her nothing more than ash.

Because it was fun!

Because it was so much fun.

Ichimin dimly heard the ear-piercing scream from Rukia beside her, as Gin Ichimaru sauntered away. Undoubtedly, wearing a smile just a bit wider than normal.

* * *

After they recovered, they were ushered to the Sokyoku grounds, prepared for their deaths. The two of them would die together. It worked out very well for a double execution, something that had never happened before that Ichimin could recall. Then again, she wasn't privy to any execution before her own, so she shouldn't be talking. A bunch of people were gone, the second, fourth and eighth were the only ones there…why were so many Captains gone?

Byakuya was here, just arriving. Joy filled Ichimin's heart. _'Yay, this jackass gets to watch his sister get killed and then look at me and think, 'I TOLD you so, you drunk slut' or some shit. Fuck.'_

She vaguely noticed that Yamamoto had asked Rukia for her final words and it had been said, before he turned his aged features to her.

"Do you have any last words, Ichimin Kumorigachi?" Yamamoto asked her, and Ichimin nodded solemnly. She cleared her throat a bit, dry from the anxiety she was feeling about the entire situation of her impending death. She spoke loudly, to where the five Captains and their Lieutenants present would hear her loud and clear.

"I won't say I didn't do it, because I did. But I'll say that I didn't wish it." She declared with all the will and pride of a shinigami Fifth seat, her eyes burning with a quiet sort of determination as she spoke. Yamamoto nodded, and she spoke again. A single, simple request.

"Captain-General Yamamoto, I have one request. Please erase all traces of my existence after I am gone; if I am to die in shame, please give my execution a nameless title on the records and destroy any documents recording me." She asked of him quietly, and after a moment of consideration, he gave a nod.

"It will be done. Now, let the executions of Rukia Kuchiki and Ichimin Kumorigachi begin." His voice boomed, and the two of us were lead down into the area between the large pillars making up the Sokyoku. Ichimin stared up at the enormous blade looming overhead, closing her eyes, as she and Rukia were stood side-by-side. Two blocks rose up from the ground, one in for both Rukia and Ichimin before the bonds holding their arms broke and the two blocks split into three, pinning their arms in a crucifixion sort of way with both arms held out horizontal, and feet locked together. They rose, unimaginably high in the air before stopping side-by-side still. Ichimin looked down at the people below her, staring up and watching the Sokyoku before the two women erupt into brilliant flames. A phoenix of indescribable brilliance floated before them, the combined power of a million Zanpakuto. It waited before them, preparing to dash them to bits and then annihilate those bits in a rain of holy, cleansing fire. Ichimin chanced a glance over to Rukia, who looked back with a sad, empathetic sort of smile. Ichimin answered with a short laugh, smiling with much more warmth than she thought possible. Her soul was oddly calm now; perhaps Death staring her right in the face with bright eyes of flame was what had brought it about, or perhaps it had been Ichimaru himself. He reminded her of what she wouldn't get back, even if she were allowed to live. Reminded her that Aizen was dead and that she really didn't have anything or anyone to mourn her when she was gone. There was nothing to go back to, no other choice that she could make in this afterlife.

Softly, Ichimin heard Rukia say a goodbye. Ichimin smiled, closing her eyes and letting her head hang a bit, her chin against her chest.

'_Let us go, Ichimin, to the blank slate of nothingness. The phoenix awaits.'_ She heard Kyokkou tell her in her mind, and she nodded.

"I'm ready." Ichimin Kumorigachi said, as the bird launched forward to destroy her completely. Her head was lifted, and she stared straight at the bird as it was in her face. A complacent, satisfied smile on her lips. Before she saw it right in her face, she spoke one last statement, three small words with all the meaning in the world.

"I have lived."

The blast was blindingly bright, but though Ichimin was expecting a feeling of complete nothingness, she could still feel the wind around her and heard Rukia breathe out a name. Opening her eyes in confusion, Ichimin stared up at a teenaged kid standing on the air in front of them, holding back the fucking Sokyoku with his Zanpakuto, held over his back as if it were nothing at all. He had brilliant orange hair and brown eyes, and was wearing a thick mantle. Looking down at them, he flicked a glance to Ichimin and then to Rukia, smiling. They exchanged their own versions of greetings, ending in which the Sokyoku reared back for another attack. He prepared to fend it off, she watched, before long red cords wrapped around its neck. Staring down at ground level, Ichimin saw Captain Ukitake and Kyoraku (ironic; both of their Captains were saving their own condemned subordinates) were working something out together. Soifon screamed about something and the Sokyoku imploded, raining down fiery reiatsu upon everyone below. That kid from when he made the first attempt to save Rukia, the one whom Ichimin would know to be 'Ichigo Kurosaki' looked at them both, before jumping up on the scaffolding.

"What are you doing?" Rukia called up to him. He twisted around his Zanpakuto, poising to thrust it downwards. "I'm destroying this scaffolding." He told her point-blank, before doing just that and destroying the scaffolding in an explosion of reiatsu.

Ichimin was hanging in the air by the back of her kosode, before seeing that this Ichigo had her balanced with his Zanpakuto in one hand and Rukia hung onto comfortably in the other. He was staring down pointedly at her, trying to figure her out.

"What's your name?" He asked her, and she spent a moment attempting to remember before answering. "Ichimin Kumorigachi. And you're Ichigo Kurosaki, right?" She responded, and he blinked in surprise.

"How do you know my name?" Ichigo asked her, before she motioned with her head to Rukia. The younger woman spoke for her. "We were in the Shishinro together; we're friends." She said, and Ichigo nodded at Ichimin. "You know my name already, so now I want to know what to do with you." He semi-asked her, and she shrugged. "I dunno, I was kind of prepared to be dead by now and everything…so…" She trailed off, really not knowing what to do now. A few shinigami below them were bowled over, and both stared down at a familiar redhead.

"Renji! I'm so glad you're okay-" Rukia gushed in relief, and Ichimin smiled and called down to him with a wave before she watched Ichigo throw Rukia down to Renji. He barely caught her, screaming up at Ichigo before Ichimin herself felt that she was being raised as Rukia had, and was also thrown down, screaming. Renji moved and she barreled into him, feeling the world go off-kilter with the landing. She'd soared down, been attempted at being caught by Renji, slammed into him, he fumbled her and she hit the ground.

"Take that one too, since you seem to know her!" Ichigo shouted down, and Renji shouted up some obscenities at him for throwing women at him like fucking torpedoes. "Fuck…" Ichimin breathed, moving to her hands and knees before looking up at Renji. He didn't have room to carry her, and so she used his arm to support herself and got on his back, locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

"Can you hang on?" He asked her, already beginning to move with Rukia in one hand and his Zabimaru in the other. Ichimin sighed, already feeling beyond exhausted from all the commotion around them.

"Either I do or I drop and you lose the dead weight. Win/win, but we need to hurry the fuck up." She breathed, and he began to run off. Ichimin caught sight of this Kurosaki kid's fighting power, fending off the Lieutenant Captains coming after the three of them without breaking a sweat. Renji continued on with his two accompaniments, and they continued on while Ichimin saw Kurosaki and Byakuya Kuchiki standing off. If he can stand up against the Sokyoku, then he could maybe take Kuchiki. Possibly. Kuchiki was an arrogant prick of a blueblood, Ichimin stuck by, but he was a –much- more refined Zaraki in fighting power. With flowery sword petals of doom. Which was humiliating to be killed by, Ichimin could only speculate.

"What the hell did you do to get stuck on the goddamn Sokyoku, Ichimin??" Renji spoke loudly, continuing his speedy running. Ichimin sighed on his neck, not wanting to go through it again. "I went into the Living World with three shinigami accompaniments, somehow I saw them as humanoid hollows and the second group of shinigami sent out to get us saw me kill them. So everyone thinks I'm a murderer now." Ichimin explained quickly, as they turned a corner in Seireitei. Renji nodded, and they ran on for what felt like an eternity of Ichimin thinking, _'What the fuck do I do now'._ She could always hide in the living world like she heard Kisuke Urahara did, maybe he'd let her stay with him wherever he was and kill hollows just to keep herself from going mad. The loud geysers of reiatsu erupted behind their backs, and Ichimin glanced back to see a monumental meeting of white reiatsu with black reiatsu, before it fizzled out and faded.

_'Kurosaki is a monster.'_ Ichimin distinctly thought to herself, wondering at how a teenage kid could match with Kuchiki. Byakuya-fucking-Kuchiki, resident noble blue-blooded badass of the Gotei Thirteen. The reiatsu faded, and they assumed that they would be safe from here on out if Kuchiki was wounded or defeated. Probably at least a little bit scuffed up from that last fight; maybe his hair-ornament things fell out. At the very least, Ichimin wanted to see him without the hair things, because maybe then all of Matsumoto's ranting about how Byakuya Kuchiki was 'sex on legs' would make sense.

They stopped however, at the man standing before them.

"Captain Tosen…" Renji spoke, before the blind Captain pulled some sort of transportation kido that Ichimin didn't know the name of. A large white length of bandages spun around the four of them, obscuring their view of the surroundings before it all ended and Ichimin realized that they were standing on Sokyoku hill. Again. "What…" She mumbled to herself, before hearing a familiar voice that made her heart stop.

"Welcome, Abarai." She heard the familiar smooth voice greet, and rolled her head over in breathless shock to see none other than Sosuke Aizen standing before then, Gin Ichimaru at his back. She barely noticed how tightly she was digging her nails into Renji's shoulders, instead staring straight at Aizen. He glanced to her a brief moment, before looking back to Renji. "Put the women down, and go." He ordered, and Renji froze.

"Captain Aizen? But I thought…" He trailed off, before asking what had Aizen just said. Aizen himself smiled, keeping his doe eyes trained away from Ichimin and on Renji. "Didn't you hear me before? I'm sure you did. Naughty boy. I told you to put them down, and leave." Aizen ordered again, continuing to smile serenely. Ichimin couldn't speak from the shock of seeing him alive again. But also, because of what he was ordering. What did he want with Rukia and herself? She was convicted to death; unless he was taking them back for another execution-

"No." Renji responded, simply. Aizen didn't change at all from the refusal, only looking a bit interested. "What?" He asked, and Renji repeated himself. "I said no, Captain Aizen." Renji refused, and Ichimaru began to draw his Zanpakuto. Aizen stopped him, speaking to Renji directly. "I see. If you will not comply, then I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about it. You may keep Rukia in your arms, and Ichimin on your back." Aizen said simply, beginning to draw his Zanpakuto.

"But the rest of you has to go." He finished, and in a flash, Renji's sword arm was sliced open. Aizen's blade was invisible to Ichimin it was so quick, though she felt the breeze of the blade whizzing past her head. Aizen continued to speak genially, taunting Renji in a roundabout way while Ichimin's mind attempted to fit this together in some sort of sensible way. It didn't work. Any ideas she had as to what the fuck was happening were mixed into an amalgamation of what the fucking shit.

One particular line caught Ichimin's ear, froze her solid and only made her dig her nails in deeper into Renji's shoulder.

"Then why did you kill Momo?!" Renji shouted, and Ichimin could scarcely breathe. There had been an earlier disruption of reiatsu, and she could only guess it was some sort of communication kido that she wasn't allowed to hear.

Aizen, kill Momo? The genial Captain that wanted nothing more than to make his subordinates comfortable, the kindest Captain in the entire Gotei Thirteen? The man she'd fallen in love with, for that same compassion?

"Kill…Momo…?" Ichimin finally spoke, scarcely loud enough for anyone to hear. Aizen heard it though, and seemed to frown a bit at her reaction. "Don't be so shocked, Ichimin, Renji. She couldn't live without me. Her death was unavoidable, and she died after her purpose was fulfilled in its entirety." He answered, and looked genuinely like his old self as he spoke the next line.

"I killed her out of compassion, don't you see?"

Ichimin went catatonic, staring off at nothing in particular. She stared, but she didn't really see. Everything she'd loved was a lie. A sham. He was probably going to kill her, and that's why he wanted Renji to leave her. She heard his next speech about not wanting to do the dirty work himself, but didn't really listen to it. Only when the vibration of Renji speaking rumbled through his chest and through hers as well did she awaken from the version of a coma, looking up at Aizen in a daze.

"You're not the Aizen I knew anymore. I don't know what you're planning, but you're definitely not getting either of them now." Renji told Aizen, and the brunette Captain smiled in a sort of way that chilled Ichimin's blood.

"I was never the Sosuke Aizen you knew. He was just an illusion." Aizen turned his eyes to Ichimin's, as she stared back in what he amusedly recognized as terror. He would need to comfort her about it all later, not that he hadn't been expecting a rather negative reaction given her trusting nature towards him, and the betrayal she would need to overcome in time. He didn't break their gaze as he spoke again, smiling in a sort of way that absolutely reviled Ichimin.

"The Sosuke Aizen you knew was merely a figment of your imaginations. He never existed."

That was the moment Renji flared his reiatsu and moved at the same time, and the already weak Ichimin just couldn't hold on anymore. She lost her grip and fell off, slamming to the rock in a quiet pain that she was too afraid to express with noise, for fear of attracting this…man's attention. He wasn't Aizen; he was someone entirely different. She watched Renji be soundly defeated by Aizen, sincerely grateful that Aizen himself seemed to be more interested in Rukia and Renji than he was in her. Ichimin watched him defeat Kurosaki with a single slice, before destroying any resistance Renji would offer as well. He went on talking, explaining things about 'hollowfication' and 'Hogyoku', things the woman didn't understand in the least. Aizen would glance to her now and then, small movements showing that he did indeed acknowledge her existence. She was unable to move at all, he had assumed, from the same effect as Rukia had being unable to move from the impact of their reiatsus. His, most likely. Komamura interrupted his speech, but the fox-faced Captain was very quickly dealt with using some technique that Ichimin could only place as a Hado. A level ninety Hado that she'd only seen once before, and it was a failure that backfired and killed the caster. Ichimin had avoided any Hado since then, and shied away from Kido as well, although her own Zanpakuto used the Kido principle to create flashes of light that were amplified by the mirrors in the shaft. She was capable when it was absolutely necessary, but highly disliked Kido and Hado for fear of a backfire.

Aizen continued on in his explanation of the entire deceiving plan; how Aizen faked his own death and left Ichimin, how he issued the orders for Rukia's execution, and by extension, how he had issued her own order for execution. That order had come from Central Forty-Four itself; if the times were right, then he hid himself away as soon as the Ryoka invaded, while Ichimin was sent on patrol and in the Living World. So he issued the order for the extermination mission with Ichimin in it, he issued the secondary group to come retrieve her and 'accidentally' see her kill the shinigami. Slowly, she figured it all out to be that her entire life since she'd met him on a personal level had been nothing but a play that she happened to be a puppet within; he predicted and controlled her every movement, somehow making her see the shinigami as hollow just so that she could be convicted and he could put her to death.

"Why." She said it loudly, interrupting him in a brief moment of silence between clauses. Aizen looked down at her surprised that she would be able to speak, but then smiled that same insipid smile he had worn ever since he reappeared alive and well to her, never speaking a single word to her until now.

"Why? Why what, Ichimin?" He asked her gently, and she balled her hands into tight fists. "Why did you need to even use me?! I didn't offer one little bit to your plot; why did you need to involve me at all?! Was it just another game to amuse yourself with while you were waiting for everything to play out? Just a one night stand to make the poor alcoholic feel important?" She raised her head to shout again, angry and torn and betrayed. "Why-" Ichimin began, before her words were choked off instantly at seeing him having been walking towards where she was sitting to stand right before her, staring down at her with a finger looped under Rukia's reiatsu-sealing collar, dragging her around like a toy that had lost it's real interest. He wasn't smiling, looking quite contemplative as he stared down at her weak, reiatsu-drained form crumpled at his feet. Weak, defenseless and so very terrified of him and what he could do to her. It was almost cute.

"Ichimin, I won't lie. At first, you were an annoyance to me." He began, reaching down and seeing her shrink away from his hand. He stopped, moving back a bit to give her room to calm down. "But as the time went on, I found you truly interesting. It was odd, to see a person so very pained in what their daily lives entailed being able to smile and laugh and carry on, as if nothing at all were wrong. A convincing mask." Aizen reached forward, and Ichimin realized that from how he was raising his reiatsu very slowly, she was being restricted in her ability to move away from him.

"I wanted a better look at you; as you can see, I am more than interested in the human mind, and unraveling it when I find something that interests me. You interested me, really, you did. As I spent time with you, I decided that you were something that I couldn't leave behind to Seireitei, for it to eventually destroy. I altered the orders to put you out on patrol while I myself faked my own death, timing it correctly to make sure that you wouldn't find out too early and commit suicide. I then put out the second group to find you killing shinigami, which I altered with my Zanpakuto's Kanzen Saimin to make you see them as humanoid hollows and subsequently slaughter. You were detained and put under arrest; I had you put to death, and events played out correctly. Barring the slight alteration to normal protocol Seireitei has for Sokyoku executions; I suppose that the Ryoka saving Rukia was actually a stroke of luck. Yamamoto seemed to have altered it himself at the last moment to make it a double-execution instead of the singular I had set my plans around. It has all worked out in the end, though, so no need to fret."

He explained all her fears to her and proved them correct; her survival had been luck, and she had the inkling that even if she had died, Sosuke Aizen wouldn't have been all too bothered by it.

"Now Ichimin, calm down and watch events play out." Aizen crooned soothingly, catching her off guard and looping two fingers under her own collar. He turned back, dragging her by it across the dirt and over to Gin, who he handed her off to. The silver haired man held her by her collar as well. Now free of the distraction of Ichimin interrupting, he retrieved the Hogyoku from Rukia's soul and held her up for Ichimaru to dispose of, ordering him to kill her. Gin complied, sending Shinso out to destroy her when Byakuya took the blow, saving her from death. As he prepared to kill both of them, the injured Byakuya and Rukia herself, the entirety of Soul Society seemed to surround the three traitors and capture them, including Matsumoto capturing Gin, who was blocking a small piece of debris with his free hand. The other hand was holding both Ichimin by her collar and Shinso, the razor sharp edge dangerously close to her throat. He had been exerting a level of reiatsu on her to keep her from speaking or moving, not wanting to deal with her giving him grief in the least.

Ichimin listened to them speak, to talk with Aizen and Gin and Tosen. She also listened to them stop, and distinctly heard Aizen say, "It's time." Right about then did Gin jerk his arm quickly, throwing Ichimin with great force across the small distance between the two men as she was caught easily by Aizen, in time with the horizontal beam of light shooting down from the sky to seal her off from everyone else as Ichimin was trapped within this light with Aizen, as he patted her head gently, almost kindly. Almost like he did…used to do with Momo sometimes. She was unable to move and merely watched the people below her, Renji and Rukia and that orange haired boy Ichigo Kurosaki stare up after them. She was being taken away, just as Aizen had said a moment ago; he deemed her too precious for Soul Society to ruin, and so he would take her with him. Maybe like a kind of trophy, who could know what Aizen's motives were?

"Have you fallen to Earth, Aizen?" Ichimin looked down at Ukitake as he spoke up to Aizen, glancing off to look at Nanao and Kyoraku as well. They looked at her and she longed to shout, 'I didn't want any part of it!! I didn't even know!!', but Aizen was making sure that she couldn't with his reiatsu pressing down on her. The man she was half-leaning against answered him in an arrogant way, responding with a sort of philosophy that chilled Ichimin Kumorigachi to the bone. "Don't kid yourself, Ukitake. No one has ever stood atop the heavens before." He continued on, letting go of her head a moment to pull off his glasses and brush back his hair, as Ichimin watched him with a special sort of amazement that Aizen thoroughly enjoyed; she held, for that moment in time, the look of deep reverence towards him as if he were a god, and it was very becoming of her in his eyes.

"I will stand atop the heavens." He told them all, reaching down and pulling Ichimin up by her collar before moving to wrap an arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest and looking down at them all. Aizen said his tenderless goodbyes, and Ichimin beseeched the shinigami below them for forgiveness, she begged them with her eyes as her lips wouldn't move.

Ichimin Kumorigachi watched as they entered into the blackness of what lied in the only world that could hold all the Menos Grande; the world of the hollows, Hueco Mundo. And she felt him pull her closer to him as it closed and the bright light of the shinigami world faded, leaving her in blackness with only the oppressive feel of Aizen's reiatsu surrounding her completely, the laughing of Gin Ichimaru and the sensation of this new, cruel Sosuke Aizen leaning her head into the crook of his neck and smiling against her temple, threading his fingers through her hair, gently.

* * *

**((Holy crap ten pages on Word. I didn't think it'd be right or non-sadistic to stop right in the middle of it, and so I just went on…and on…and on. The entirety of the execution day is covered though, so we're getting into how Aizen's personality shift and more controlling and direct way of getting what he desires affect Ichimin, his captive.))**


	17. No Escape

They landed on the cool sands of Hueco Mundo, a world familiar to Aizen, Ichimaru and Tosen, but completely alien to Ichimin as she lied catatonic in Aizen's arms. The man she couldn't say she really knew anymore turned to Ichimaru, holding her out and the silver-haired man complied, scooping her up bridal style. "Welcome, Ichimin. Welcome to Hueco Mundo." Aizen told her, before the three began to shunpo towards the towering white building in the distance. "That is Las Noches, our base and your new residence." Aizen narrated her unspoken question. Ichimin was finally allowed to speak, and did just that.  
"So I'm a prisoner." She stated, dull in tone. Aizen shook his head a bit, not looking at her and keeping up a regal appearance. "Not a prisoner, Ichimin. A guest." Aizen told her, and she laughed bitterly. "I didn't know you had to kidnap guests." Ichimin more or less said to herself, and Aizen shook his head in slight exasperation at her uncooperativeness. Gin chose to speak now, not letting her get any room to wiggle free of his grip.

"Ya just gotta cause trouble, don't you?" He spoke with the same smile as always, and Ichimin immediately turned her currently bitter mood towards him. "Wonder how much trouble you've caused Izuru and Rangiku." She said it sullenly, and his reiatsu spiked a bit and prevented her from breathing for a moment. A wordless warning, and she settled into dour silence. The rest of the short trip (how many miles they had covered, Ichimin didn't know but she knew that the three traitor Captains were far too quick for her to outrun) was in silence and very uneventful, and their 'guest' was completely unresponsive to them, pouting like a child. Aizen would look to her now and then, and sighed under his breath at how difficult this might be if she didn't start giving it all a chance. He would need to speak with her later and keep someone watching her to make sure she didn't attempt suicide again or something akin to that.

When they arrived, Aizen immediately sped off to play with his new toy and Gin took Ichimin to her room, the woman herself now wondering why the hell Aizen was going to bring her here and then run off to mess around with that Hogyoku thing instead. Ichimaru sat her down on her feet and took her by the wrist, leading her through the painfully white hallways. "Alrigh', your room is right up here. Now just try and play nice, alright Ichimin? Aizen favors ya quite a bit, and I dunno what kind of lengths he'd go to just to keep you under control." Gin told her, as they turned innumerable corners and walked down what felt like dozens of identical hallways. Ichimin let him lead her without any resistance, basely because she knew that he would drag her along anyway if she tried to jerk away from him. "Favors me quite a bit? He dragged me here and away from everything I was familiar with, just on a whim of his. If he does this to those he favors, I don't want to see what he does to his enemies." She muttered, and Gin laughed a bit. "No, you don't. I'm just trying to make it easier on you, Ichimin. Telling you, just cooperate and it's gonna be so much easier for you to make it here."

They stopped in front of just another white door, identical to all of the others. Gin opened it and ushered Ichimin inside, and immediately the woman spotted a new set of bland white clothes on the bland white couch in the bland white room where everything was just as bland and white. Fuck. She turned around and looked back at him, pointing at the red reiatsu-sealing collar around her neck. "When am I getting this thing off?" She asked him with a tone of irritability in her voice, and he shrugged. "I dunno, whenever Aizen-sama decides to take it off. Oh, and we have your Kyokkou here by the way. Brought it back with us, so don't think that Aizen-sama doesn't have any trust in you at all. I bet when he trusts you more, he'll give it back to you." Gin gave her that incentive to play nice before leaving, closing the door behind him. A moment later, and there was a loud click of the door. Ichimin ran to it and tried to open it, only to step back with a scowl. "Fuckers locked me in." She hissed, before turning around and striding over to the poofy couch. She picked up the uniform and then tossed it away, onto the floor without particular care. She was going to give Aizen as much hell as she could, at least until she actually listened to reason and started to play along with it. Ichimin herself was aware that she was going to get in trouble for doing this, but she was a vindictive woman and she was pissed off at Aizen, so reason didn't really matter over her giving him hell.

"What sort of cell did I get locked up in?" She muttered, looking around the room. First off, everything was the same goddamn shade of hospital white. Great. She had a relatively large couch, no fucking bed, a little bathroom and a window up high that had bars on it.

"He stuck me in a cell. I know that fucker has a bed." Ichimin muttered to herself, walking past the crumpled uniform and dropping onto the bed, staring up at the window. Her hard eyes softened at the sight of it, and she spoke much softer than she had to Gin or Aizen. "The moon is wrong." She said quietly, as if it greatly saddened her. It did, for it was another thing to remind her about how she was far from the only home she'd ever known. Staring up at that backwards moon, she felt tears coming on as she finally felt her rage subside and be replaced by that great sadness that accompanied and backed up the anger, the sharp feeling that she was now trapped in Aizen's grip and could do nothing about it. More than that, it was the heartache in the knowledge that she finally was able to see Aizen again, but he was nothing that she could remember. He'd lied to her indirectly for all that time, and now her love was misplaced and stabbing her in the back because she didn't know where it belonged.

'…_Ichimin.'_ She heard Kyokkou's voice, faint but there. Quickly using the fabric of the couch, she pressed her cheeks into it to act as a version of a sleeve to wipe away the tears. _'Yeah, Kyokkou. I know, I fucked up and I fucked up bad. I'm sorry.'_ She told him, and he was silent a moment longer. _'You hadn't the slightest way to know, and neither had I. The mask was impenetrable; you had no indication of his true nature. He was merely the wrong man to fall in love with.'_ Kyokkou told her, and she wanted to tell him that she didn't love him. She really, really wanted to. _'You love him, do not lie.'_ Kyokkou answered the unsaid denial, and Ichimin couldn't stop the singular sob from escaping her. _'I did. Maybe I still do, I don't even know anymore. Not only is he a murderous traitor, but he dragged me along into this…place.'_ Ichimin answered, before Kyokkou semi-scolded her. _'You held no love for Soul Society, so you cannot hold it against him that he did not either. You are as much traitor as he is; he merely acted upon it instead of drowning himself in alcohol.'_

Ichimin was silent a moment, before rolling over and pressing her face into the material of her couch.

'_Kyokkou, just…shut up. I don't need to hear you right now.'_ She told him, and heard a surprised chortle. _'And so you need to hear lies? Very well, I will withhold the truth that you refuse to accept due to childish spite.'_ Kyokkou said with a bit of disappointment in his voice, before he went silent. Ichimin just closed her eyes and surrendered the massive exhaustion she felt from that day.

* * *

A slight noise, and Ichimin was awake. She couldn't tell how long she'd been asleep, but she knew that someone else was in here with her. Ichimin was too paranoid here to fall into a deep sleep, and instead remained very lightly dozing. She immediately sat up and looked at the new person in her room, staring hard at the genially smiling visage of Sosuke Aizen. "Aizen." She said it with disdain in her voice, and he seemed to lose a bit of that kindness. Good, he wouldn't resemble his old self in the slightest and Ichimin could hate him all the more. "Hello Ichimin. You seem to be settling in well." He spoke to her, and she moved to sit up on her couch with her arms folded across her chest.

"You seem to be having fun with your Hogie-whatever." Ichimin wasn't looking away from him in a pout, but acting more like an adult now. It was good for Aizen, now that she seemed to be more willing to listen to reason. "I had to begin work immediately, I'm sure you understand." The man spoke, walking towards her on her couch. He stopped at the crumpled uniform on the floor, losing his smile and looking quite displeased.

"You haven't changed yet." He noted, and she looked away. He was wearing a new set of clothes, a white regal outfit with a red sash around his waist. Aizen reached down and picked up the clothes, holding them out to her. "You will change." He said to her with an amount of forcefulness to it, almost like an order. Ichimin kept her eyes focused away, and before she knew it he had taken her by the wrist and dragged her to her feet, as she attempted to pull away. "Let go of me Aizen!" Ichimin spat, before the clothes dropped to the floor and he had her by the jaw, forcing her to turn her head and look directly at him.

"You will call me Aizen-sama. Even if you are of great interest to me, I will not accept disrespect from anyone, least of all from you." Aizen spoke to her with a certain tone in his voice that reminded her how she was talking not to Fifth Division Captain Aizen, but the Lord of Las Noches Sosuke Aizen. She stared right into his eyes and how they were cold, and just the look in them froze her solid. He let her go and she fell to the floor, her heart racing.

"I will return later, and if you are not changed yet I will do it myself or have Gin do it for me." Ichimin heard him tell her and she saw his feet turn and head to the door, before the noise of a closing and locking door rang out behind her. For a long time, Ichimin just sat there and absorbed the slow realization of exactly whose mercy she was at. Slowly, she reached over and picked up the outfit, the fabric without feel under her numb fingers as she moved to the bathroom and dropped them on the counter, undressing and stepping into the shower. Mostly, she just stood there and let it all affect her. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against the wall of the shower and just stood there for what felt like an eternity. When the water ran cold, she finally got out and in a daze, put on her new uniform. It looked just like Aizen's, all the way down to the sash around her waist colored black. She would have hated it if she hadn't been in that strange, disbelieving daze. Pulling on the black tabi and the geta, she walked back to her couch and laid down on it again, staring up at the ceiling. Her hair was still a bit damp and wetted the couch arm under her head as she realized how disconnected from the world she felt, closing her eyes a moment. All she was doing was waiting for him to come back. She had nothing else to do but wait.

* * *

Aizen was once again heading for Ichimin's room, expecting to have to carry out his earlier threat. He didn't really want to go to such lengths and foster more negative feelings towards him on her part, but he just wouldn't tolerate giving her special treatment and allowing bratty and childish behavior to be played out. If he didn't have full control over every part of his kingdom, then he had control over none of it. And he could not allow that to happen.

Stepping into the room, he was somewhat surprised to see her in full Las Noches uniform, her hair damp from what he could assume to have been a shower. Ichimin looked over to him, remaining quiet. "Ichimin, it is good to see you cooperating." He smiled as he said it, and Ichimin nodded slightly. "Yes, Aizen-sama." Her tone was dull, lifeless and it caused his smile to fade. Aizen walked over to her couch, and she moved her legs and sat up so he had room to sit. He did, and she didn't move to look at him or acknowledge his presence. Reaching over to her, he hooked his fingers around the reiatsu-sealing collar circling her neck and tugged at it gently, getting her to look at him.

"Ichimin, remember that I am doing this for your own good, not to punish you." He told her gently, and she didn't really respond. "Why am I of interest to you?" She asked softly, and surprised him with the tone of her question. Afraid, and confused. "You already know everything about me, you've seen it all. You've got intimate knowledge of every aspect of me, so what's left to be interested in?" Ichimin asked him gently, and he pulled her closer to him. "You can't see it? I don't sleep with women I only find interesting." He was smiling again and spoke more gently as she stared up into his eyes, when she realized that it was a seductive tone he was using. "No, you are more than just an interest to me." Aizen told her, speaking gently against her lips. She pulled back and he let go of her collar, watching her turn her head away from him and scoot as far as she could from him on the couch, supporting her head in her hand.

"You're just not the same, Sosuke! You're so much different…" She choked, and Aizen could hear that she was crying. He laid a hand on her back gently and she flinched at his touch, but didn't pull away. "You will learn to love me like this, just as you did in Seireitei." He said it simply, standing up and trailing his hand along her back before losing contact, walking to the door and stepping outside. "Dinner will be in two hours; I suggest you prepare to meet the Espada." He told her without explaining what an Espada was, closing and locking the door. Ichimin kept her hand over her eyes, now having no idea what to do with her feelings or with herself at all. But it was something else that struck her even more painfully, something else entirely.

Now that Ichimin knew she was important to Aizen, she truly understood that there would be absolutely no chance for her to escape him.


	18. Dinner With the Espada

It was a few hours later that Ichimin's door opened again, and a new monotone voice called her name. "Ichimin Kumorigachi." The toneless male voice called out her name, and Ichimin stood. She had recovered and steeled her will, now ready for whatever Aizen would throw at her. She wanted her Kyokkou back and she wanted the collar off, and then maybe she could figure out how she'd survive all of this. "Hai." Ichimin said, walking to the doorway. The man before her had short black hair and the brightest emerald green eyes, paper white skin and two distinctive dark green tear track markings going from his eyes down to his jawbone. Instantly, Ichimin saw the helmet-like thing on his head and recognized it as a mask portion. "Who are you? Are you…a hollow?" She asked him, and he gave a very, very slight nod without the slightest change in his expression. "Yes. Aizen-sama has requested you be escorted for dinner with he and the Espada." The hollow spoke, turning on his heel and beginning to walk in a stiff, soldier-like stride. Ichimin walked after him, seeing a Zanpakuto at his side and eying it.

"What's your name?" She asked him, and he remained silent a moment before responding curtly. "Ulquiorra Cifer." He told her, not looking back. The group continued on in silence, before they stopped at a large set of doors and Ulquiorra took his hand out of his pocket, reaching forward and pushing the door open. He moved aside and Ichimin stepped inside, looking at all twelve people in the room as they stared back.

Aizen was at the head of the table, with Gin and Tosen sitting at either side of him. Down the table, nine others sat, ten as Ulquiorra closed the door and took his seat. One was the toneless Ulquiorra Cifer, of course. There was a large mountain of a man, leaning bored on the table and glancing over at her. A figure with a really tall, tubelike head and a white mask over it was sitting opposite the large man, and from how he gestured his mask, she guessed that he was looking as well. A thin, effeminately bodied man with pastel pink hair and rectangular framed glasses was sitting and staring at her with a particular gaze that she recognized as the same one that Kurotsuchi gave his test subjects or the messengers that he had to interact with. Then there was a black man with a Mohawk of bone horn things sitting up straight and watching her, not really looking all that interested in her. Then there was a blue-haired man with his feet on the table and his arms folded behind his head, looking disinterested with the entire situation and sizing her up. Ichimin could see the hollow hole straight through his stomach because of his wide open jacket, and when she met his glare for staring at it she looked away and right at the extremely tall, skinny man with long black hair, a white eye patch and snakelike eyes leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. He wasn't sizing her up; looked more like he was trying to guess her sizes as he leered at the curves her uniform made sure to show, and she quickly glanced over Ulquiorra and to the blond woman wearing an even more revealing outfit that showed half of her breasts and pulled up as a hood to cover her mouth and nose. She had her arms laying on the table and had glanced over at her for a moment, saw that she was of no interest and then looked away. An old man with what looked like a crown of mask fragment on his forehead glanced and then looked away. Finally, the last new face was supporting his head in his gloved hand, a brunette with a light goatee who looked like he was really tired. An empty chair was at the other end of the table, beside creepy tall masked guy and the mountainous bored guy, and Ichimin took that seat quietly.

"My dearest Espada, this is our guest Ichimin Kumorigachi. Ichimin, these are my Espada." Aizen told her, and she nodded a bit while exchanging hellos with the two next to her. Looking up at the tall guy next to her, she held out her hand. "Ichimin Kumorigachi." She said her name, and he sort of stared at her odd as he shook her hand. "Yammy Rialgo. Cero Espada." He answered, and she nodded. She next held her hand out to the tube-headed man and he shook her hand as well. "Aaroniero Arruruerie, Novena Espada." The words were spoken oddly, as if two people said them at once with vastly different voices. The man with pink hair reached across the table to shake her hand, and he didn't immediately let go of it after the shake was done, and from the pressing she could feel him doing on her joints, she could tell he was examining the bone and tendon structure in her hand. "Szayel Aporro Grantz. Octava Espada." He told her with a smile, a smile that quickly made her withdraw her hand from his curious grip. She could barely reach the black man, but shook his hand as well as he introduced himself. "Zommari Leroux, Septima Espada." He told her, and she nodded. She couldn't reach any of the others and after Szayel Aporro Grantz and from the look of the tall skinny guy with the spoon hood, wasn't sure if she wanted to.

The blue-haired man introduced himself next, his voice coarse and loud. "Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, Sexta Espada." He didn't speak with her as much as at her, still staring through her with bright blue eyes. She turned her attention to creepy spoon man, smiling at her and showing the top row of his teeth as he did. "Nnoitra Jiruga, Quinta Espada." He told her in a slick tone, still looking her up and down as he did. Ichimin was glad she didn't have to shake his hand. Now Ulquiorra spoke, although all she didn't know was his rank. "Ulquiorra Cifer, Cuarta Espada." He said in dull monotone, as the blond haired woman spoke her rank. "Halibel, Tercera Espada." She told Ichimin. The woman looked powerful and collected. A moment later the older man with the crown also spoke. "Barragan Luisenbarne, Segunda Espada." He told her dismissively, as if she were some sort of child that he wasn't interested in listening to. The tired man was last to speak, half mumbling the name and rank. "Stark, Primera Espada." He told her, closing his eyes a brief moment before opening them again.

"Hello." Ichimin told them all, kind of uncomfortable with a good portion of the room looking at her. Food was brought in by other hollow creatures that Ichimin didn't know what to call. She looked at Aizen as a plate was set in front of her and all the others at the large table, and he answered her. "These are the ten strongest members in my army, and they are all Arrancar. Hollows who have removed most of their masks to gain the powers of shinigami." He explained to her, and she nodded. Then, she realized that he said 'army'. "So you're waging war?" She asked simply, and Aizen smiled. "Yes, but those details can be discussed later." He dismissed her question, and the rest of dinner went on with a near-fight between Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, some dirty jokes from Nnoitra, Stark sleeping on the table and Szayel continuously making both snide comments here and there to what Grimmjow was saying and mental notes on Ichimin, which she knew because of how often he would be staring very intently at her movements when he thought she wasn't looking.

Dinner couldn't end fast enough, and when it did, Ichimin stood to say goodbye to all of the Espada. It was how she was going to show them that they didn't scare her and couldn't intimidate or control her, even though that was a lie and two to three of them scared the fuck out of her. The Espada didn't really seem to be accustomed to such treatment, being hollows and also being under Aizen's regime, and so it was more than a bit awkward. She went to shake the hands of those she couldn't reach earlier, which in hindsight, probably was a dangerous move to make. Grimmjow blew right past her, giving her a dangerous look as he passed. Jiruga she didn't particularly want to touch, but did anyway just to keep up the image that she wasn't afraid of him. She shook his hand firmly but for a moment, broke the strong self-assured image at his leering stare and quickly withdrew her hand from his grip. "Good to meet you." She said to him with a slight quake in her voice masked by the stern look she had on her face, and he just laughed slickly and left. Ulquiorra just stared at her a moment, the same blank deadpan expression as always before shaking her hand quickly and stiffly, then leaving without a word. With Halibel, Ichimin noticeably relaxed and even smiled nervously at the stiff and intimidating woman. She also left without a word. With Barragan, Ichimin didn't bother in trying to shake his hand but just bowed her head a bit, since the man seemed not to want to shake her hand. He merely turned and left without a word as well, which made four of the six Espada she hadn't shaken hands with earlier not saying a word to her or acknowledging her existence. At Stark, he looked more tired than anything and despite being the Primera, which Ichimin could guess was one of the most powerful, he shook her hand and muttered a greeting. "It's good to meet you, Primera-san." Ichimin spoke respectfully, before the brunette man waved his hand dismissively. "Stark is fine. Good to meet Aizen's girl."

Time stopped for Ichimin in blatant disbelief as Stark left, and Ichimaru and Tosen's reiatsus curiously disappeared quickly. Aizen's remained though, and Ichimin turned around to half-glare at him. "I'm not your girl." She told him straightforwardly, and the man who would be God chuckled as he stood from his seat. That pissed her off, and she took a step forward. "I'm not! I don't see where you get off pretending like you own my soul-" She began, before a hand was over her mouth and she was pressed against the wall behind her, Aizen right in her face and looking extremely displeased.

"Whether you accept it or not, Ichimin, you _do_ belong to me. I could have you killed, I could give you to Gin to play with, I could let the hollows tear you to shreds. I choose not to, because I find you interesting and I wish to have you near me." Aizen spoke lowly, but darkly. Ichimin's back was pressed further against the wall as she unconsciously flattened herself against it, attempting to put room between them that the taller man closed instantly. She couldn't slip away because his other hand was pressed against the wall next to her head, leaving her trapped. "You are mine, whether you like it or not. It is not a question or something that can be argued upon. I have been very lax with you as of late because you do not know your boundaries as of yet, but if you do not settle down into your correct place, I **will** resort to more draconian methods to put you in your place." He told her, staring down with absolutely none of the warmth in his eyes that Ichimin had fallen in love with in Soul Society. After a moment, as he watched her stare up terrified at him, Aizen let his hand slip from over her mouth and she spoke quietly, keeping eye contact and projecting absolute loathing towards him.

"I hate you." Ichimin told him, and he spoke with equal distaste. "I do not particularly care." Aizen told her simply, before letting her go and turning away. "Ulquiorra." He spoke in an ordering tone, and from outside the door did the Cuarta step in, briefly glancing to Ichimin as she walked in a stiff march towards him, moving around the pale man and walking out the door in a flounce. He returned his gaze to the form of his leader, standing beside the long dining table and staring at the wall distractedly, as if in deep thought. "Escort her to her room. Lock the door as per usual protocol." Aizen ordered, and Ulquiorra spoke a quick "Hai" before he himself left to track down the angry woman, leaving Aizen alone in the room.

"Well, you two don't seem to be getting along." A sly voice commented, and Aizen glanced over into the shadows and saw Ichimaru standing there, watching with the omnipresent smile he always wore. "No. She is more difficult to reach than I had anticipated." He admitted, and his silver-haired right hand man chuckled slightly as he moved to stand beside Aizen. "A'course not. She's a woman." Gin commented, and Aizen sighed a bit. "I fail to see what relevance that holds, Gin." He stated, and watched the other man pull out a chair and sit down. "Well, there's a lot of things it's relevant to. The only woman you really had to win over in Seireitei was Momo, an' she was a pushover. Ichimin's got spirit an' she's feeling pretty betrayed right now, I can guess." He explained, and Aizen scoffed. "Betrayed? I saved her from rotting away in Soul Society. She should be thanking me instead of giving me grief." He stated, and Gin waited a moment before continuing.

"Right now, all Ichimin sees is what you've taken away from her, namely her familiar surroundings and her freedom. Plus, ya just ain't the Aizen she remembers. If you could offer somethin' here that she didn't have back in Soul Society, maybe just pretend that you can be warm and caring this way as well, then I bet she'd warm up to ya." Gin spoke, before adding on another option with a cheerful note. "Or ya could just break her down until you're the only thing she thinks loves her." The fox-faced man finished, supporting his chin in his hand with his elbow on the table. Aizen considered it, staring off at the wall a moment before smiling in a way that showed his ill intentions despite the kind front that the man put up. He looked to Gin, smiling deceptively, to which his right hand man answered with a slowly growing malevolent smile.

"You're quite correct, Gin." Sosuke Aizen spoke, as he could feel Ulquiorra leading Ichimin back to her room via their reiatsus. He moved from the table, walking to the large doors and hovering in the doorway. "I think that our dear Ichimin needs to see what happens when you fall out of your Lord's favor."

Gin watched Aizen disappear from the doorway, and sat in the empty room just thinking. "Sorry there, Ichimin. But by now, ya should probably be expecting it from me." He finally stood, walking out the doorway and down the hall, intent upon trapping another hapless Arrancar in a hallway with two walls at either end. That was always worth a laugh.

* * *

**((And prepare for the mental abuse I've been promising for awhile now. Since I always thought that any sort of relationship Aizen was in would have quite a bit of manipulation and controlling tendencies in it.))**


	19. Candy and Stick

It had been forever since that dinner.

Ichimin sat alone in her room, her shoes kicked off a while ago. Since that one fight between herself and Aizen, there had been no outside contact with anyone at all. Every day, three times a day, someone quickly shoved in a tray of food that was mediocre compared to that dinner with the Espada and slamming the door shut, doing it too quickly for her to be able to catch sight of who did it. She hadn't seen a human or human-looking hollow for what felt like years, and it was driving her up the wall.

"Why hasn't anyone come to see me yet? Why hasn't Aizen come to see me yet?" Ichimin asked thin air, starting to feel a bit pissed off that he went through the trouble of kidnapping her and then began ignoring her after one little spat. He should've expected her to be short with him after all that he did. She groaned aloud, laying lengthwise on her couch and swinging her foot off the side.

"That asshole." She muttered, before hearing the door open. It didn't slam a half moment later though, and Ichimin glanced over to see Ulquiorra Cifer standing in the doorway. Despite her not knowing him well, she couldn't help but smile at some sort of human contact. Sitting up, she looked at him as he walked forward to toss something in her lap, turn around and leave again. Ichimin huffed at the wordless action, before looking at the object he'd thrown. A stack of paperwork, stapled together neatly. She began to read it curiously, before she stopped moving completely and just stared at the sheet. "…It's an order…from Seireitei..." She said breathlessly, her hands shaking as she read the sheet.

"By order of the Head Captain, Shigekuni Genryuusai Yamamoto of the First Division of the Gotei Thirteen, the following death warrant has been issued for former shinigami Ichimin Kumorigachi." Her voice shook as she read it aloud, filled with disbelief.

"This subject is to be killed on sight or brought back to Seireitei for immediate execution, for the crime of high treason and alliances with former Fifth Division Captain Sosuke Aizen, former Third Division Captain Gin Ichimaru, and former Ninth Division Captain Kaname Tosen." She flipped the page, reading off a list of crimes that were completely falsified, to make her look the part of the despicable villainess. "Murder, murder, murder, theft, arson, accepting bribes, giving bribes to attain a higher position, drunk and disorderly conduct, and high treason." Ichimin murmured, looking through more random crimes that she didn't perpetrate. As she flipped through to the very last page, Ichimin saw that it wasn't another form at all but a note in Aizen's elegant cursive.

_They are not your allies._

Ichimin tossed the stack aside, onto the floor while she stared ahead blankly. Sure, she knew the Court of Pure Souls wasn't so pure, but going so low as to make up crimes so that she would look more the part of a villain? "Despicable." She muttered, closing her eyes and laying a hand over them. "I know they're not my allies." The woman went on, ignoring the burning of her eyes, because she was a shinigami dammit. She only took a deep breath and spoke again. "The Court of Pure Souls never was."

The bored form of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques leaned against the wall next to Ichimin's room, listening in. He had been bored lately, nothing to do in Las Noches and so had taken to listening in on the former shinigami now prisoner. Ulquiorra had been there a moment ago and he had waited for the emotionless man to leave before setting up his own bored vigil, waiting for something to happen or her to cause trouble so he could kick her around a bit. Slowly, he heard her begin to swear and couldn't help but grin. Sensing another unwelcome reiatsu coming ahead, the grin disappeared and was replaced with a scowl as Grimmjow slipped away in the opposite direction of the smiling Gin, who soon stood outside her door and listened to her carry on in her room with a slowly growing smile. Everything was going exactly as they had expected it to.

* * *

It was an interminable wait for Ichimin, for when Aizen or anyone at all would come back. She couldn't stand the wait. Often, the woman would be pacing the room just for something to do, a tray would be shoved in at lightning speed and she'd run to the door, only to have it slammed in her face. She was going insane.

"I swear I'm going out of my goddamn mind…haven't spoken with anyone in weeks, it feels like…damn it…." She muttered to herself, wanting some sort of interaction with someone somewhere. She slowed, laying her hand against the cool wall and hanging her head.

"I'd even settle for Aizen…" Ichimin spoke softly, moving over to the wall and sitting down with her back against it. She held the sides of her head gently, moving it down to lay her forehead on her knees. She was alone in Hueco Mundo, completely alone.

"I want someone to speak to me. I want someone to listen to me. I want someone." She said quietly, ignoring how the statement made her sound like a frightened child. In reality, compared to the ages-old Arrancar that surrounded her, she was almost like a child in comparison. Quietly, the woman remained there in her own thoughts. The isolation was tearing her to pieces. The only thing barely holding her together was the thought that maybe she wasn't completely alone. Surely her friends knew that she wouldn't betray them, surely they remained in her defense back in Seireitei.

"Kumorigachi." A familiar voice spoke, the first aside from her own that Ichimin had heard in an eternity. She lifted her head to look up at Ulquiorra, staring down at her. He saw the hopeful gleam in her eyes at his arrival and ignored it, unaffected by her human emotion. Ichimin stood up shakily, moving towards him in a slow stagger. "Ulquiorra Cifer…" She said in awe of another living creature, before he pulled out his left eye and crushed it right in her face. Immediately, Ichimin watched a familiar scene. Ikkaku, Yumichika, Renji, Hisagi and Matsumoto at a bar, carrying on and having as much fun rip-roaring drunk as they usually did. And they were drinking just like Ichimin never existed. Ichimin just listened to them talk, shout and yell about people they wanted to kill. Aizen's name was tossed around alongside a few choice expletives. Matsumoto shouted about Gin being a pig or something, and everyone cheered. Hisagi didn't say anything about Tosen, instead remaining quiet while the others tore him to pieces. Finally, they got to the last name on their shit lists.

"An' Kumorigasshi too! That bitch!" Ikkaku shouted in a slightly slurred tone, and the others booed while throwing around their sake. "Runnin' off w' Aizen, damn traitor. You guys hear 'bout all the shit she did 'n secret?" Renji swore, and they all shook their heads and leaned in closer. "They say that she fucked with the paperwork in her division, to make her paychecks bigger." Another chorus of boos and expletives followed. "And she must've been workin' with Aizen the entire time! Even the execution was prolly rigged!" Matsumoto also shouted with indignation, and everyone answered with their own shouted swears, showing all manner of hatred towards her. In the end they all laughed and drank and cheered some more, all completely happy without her there. The image ended and the door shut in Ichimin's face, leaving her numbly shocked expression unseen by anyone. Slowly, she staggered backwards and to the wall again, where she slid down and buried her face in her legs folded to her chest. None would save her. No one trusted her anymore, they all hated her.

Ichimin only had one person left, and that was the man breaking her down.

* * *

Ichimin Kumorigachi was left to break of her own accord, through the actions and manipulations of Sosuke Aizen. He himself was lounging on his large white couch, merely waiting for when the Hogyoku would awaken and he would be able to finish his Oken, the King's Key. Karakura Town was a small sacrifice to make on his ascension to the throne, and to fill the time he had been spending his free moments breaking Ichimin down. Kyoka Suigetsu sat in his lap and he ran a finger across the flat side of the blade, admiring the steel's shine in the low light.

"So, Aizen-sama. I hear she's crackin'." Gin's sly voice echoed out from the doorway, and Aizen tossed his own sly glance to Ichimaru. "Yes, I am very aware. She should not have crossed me." The brunette man voiced from his spot on the couch, and Gin sauntered towards him, leaning against the arm of the couch lazily. "So, ya used Kyoka Suigetsu to make that illusion for Ulquiorra to record? Pretty sneaky of ya." He mused, and Aizen chuckled, looking down at Gin's reflection in his Zanpakuto's blade before closing his eyes a moment. "I would think of it as more draconian than sneaky, Gin." Aizen corrected with a tone of light amusement in his voice.

The smiling man laughed a bit, before looking out at the vast expanse of the Hueco Mundo deserts. "How long's she been in isolation, then?" He queried, and Aizen merely smiled as he answered. "A month. Ichimin will break soon, if she hasn't already." Aizen spoke, reaching down beside the couch to pick up another sword aside from Kyoka Suigetsu. Gin watched in amused silence as he drew Kyokkou from its sheathe, admiring the blade's shine and especially the tenor of despair he could feel resonating through the blade. "Ya keep goin' like this and she ain't gonna crack. She'll snap." Gin warned lightly, and Aizen nodded a bit as he moved Kyokkou this way and that, appraising the Zanpakuto.

"Yes, we don't want to drive her mad. Candy and stick, Gin. We just have to know when to switch stick for candy. Like training a dog, really." Aizen mused, and Gin suppressed a giggle at the implications of that statement. "Ya don't know how funny that sounds, do ya Sosuke?" He half-asked, and Aizen glanced over at the jovial man curiously. They had known each other long enough to be on a first-name basis; Gin just liked using Aizen-sama because it sounded official and important. "What?" He queried suspiciously, and Gin chuckled. "Always knew ya were into domination, but makin' her your bitch?" Ichimaru queried with a certain sort of amusement in his voice, and Aizen chuckled again. Of course Gin would see it; the smiling man was, despite his mischievous nature, extremely analytic of what he heard. After all, he'd been able to see through in minutes what the highest-ranking shinigami in Soul Society hadn't been able to see through in hundreds of years, and Aizen was always glad that he'd asked that perpetually smiling little Rukongai rat his name. "Perhaps I am." Aizen spoke down to the blade in his hands, before sheathing Kyokkou and offering it to his silver-haired companion. Gin took the blade and drew it himself, appraising it of his own value.

"'S a pretty good blade. Reflects the light real well. She ain't got too much reiatsu though, not enough to cause us trouble." He stated, before putting it away once again and offhandedly tossing the sheathed Zanpakuto in the air and catching it, as if it were a toy. "Whaddya wanna do with it, Sosuke?" He queried, Aizen smiled while he returned to Kyoka Suigetsu. "Keep it with you, and at the appropriate time we'll slowly show her that Las Noches is the only home she has left, and the best she'll ever have."


	20. Kisses and Cracks in Your Moon

Oh god, the withdrawal.

Ichimin was currently curled up at the end of her couch, suffering the full effects of cold turkey withdrawal. For the past month and a half, she'd been watering down the hand soap in the bathroom to drink and stave off the inevitable outcome, for the alcohol content in it, but once she had run out, Aizen had figured out why her soap was disappearing so quickly and so did not replace it. And so right now, Ichimin was going cold turkey and suffering heavily for it. She was shaky, couldn't think clearly, had a pulsing headache from hell, and was currently in the throes of a suicide-inducing nausea.

"Hn…" She mumbled, feeling her stomach rise in her throat again. Rolling over, Ichimin attempted to vomit but there was nothing left that she hadn't already, and so dry heaved painfully, before rolling back over and trying to wipe the sweat off her skin. Her heart was speeding, and all in all, she felt like absolute shit.

The door opened and she could tell by the reiatsu that it was Ulquiorra again, bringing her food. From the noises, Ichimin guessed that the Cuarta walked in and then stopped as he caught sight of her. "Kumorigachi." He attempted to gain her attention, garnering nothing of the sort. Moving closer, Ulquiorra took her by the arm and rolled her over to see her face.

"You are deathly pale and sweating profusely." He observed, and she rolled away from him again. He let her go, leaving the room and locking the door, as always. He was off in an unusual hurry, though Ichimin was more preoccupied with wanting to die and all. She continued in her throes, pulling the cover off of the back of her couch with shaking hands, before cocooning herself within it.

Ulquiorra Cifer stopped before a certain figure leaning in his throne, bowing his head. "Aizen-sama, the prisoner seems to be going into alcohol withdrawal. What is your wish to handle this matter?" He asked, and Aizen smiled in his guarded manner. "I will take care of it. You are dismissed, Ulquiorra." The Cuarta gave a small "Hai" before turning and leaving, as Aizen waited a moment for the inevitable. Gin slunk in the door at Ulquiorra's leave, leaning against it and smiling wickedly.

"So, Sosuke, whaddya wanna do now? She's gettin' into withdrawals. Pretty nasty, I seen 'em on Ran-chan all the time way back when." He mused, and Aizen smiled while closing his eyes. "I have an idea of something that would prove amusing to you and I both. A sort of game."

Gin raised his eyebrows a bit, showing the tiniest slit of an insane, icy blue behind his squinted eyes. "A game? One that's fun for the both of us? I wonder how cruel this game is." He spoke in a rare smooth tone, without the slightest bit of an accent. Aizen smiled a bit wider, knowing that when Gin used this tone, he was feeling his most malevolent. The brunette stood, smiling to Gin in his own malevolent way.

"Yes Gin, I know the perfect sort of game for us to occupy ourselves with." He told Ichimaru with the coldest of smiles, and Gin's own malevolent smile grew even wider at the sight of it. This was definitely going to be a lot of fun.

* * *

Ichimin was still in the throes of her withdrawal when the sound of the door opening caught her dull attention. She didn't move for a while, expecting it to be Ulquiorra checking in on her again. When it wasn't, as no monotone voice ordered her to look at him, she grudgingly pulled the cover down to see who it was. Her dull green eyes narrowed at the form of Aizen looking down at her. Right now, even the presence of another human being wouldn't bring her into a good mood as it should, because she was currently in the worst of moods and the presence of the man who was withholding any sort of alcohol from her on purpose (she knew this from how he didn't replace it but knew why she was drinking the soap, from Ulquiorra tattling on her to his precious Aizen-sama about catching her licking it off her hands at one point in time) wasn't helping that mood at all.

"Hn." She mumbled, in a questioning tone. Aizen watched her closely, examining her state. "Ichimin, you don't look well at all." He told her with a smile, and Ichimin narrowed her eyes. "Wonder why." She mumbled, before seeing him holding something at his side. He lifted it so she could see it well enough, and instantly Ichimin recognized the bottle at her side for every single birthday she could remember. Sake, her relief from this hellish withdrawal. She stood dizzily and caught her breath before speed walking towards Aizen, reaching out for the bottle. "Would you like a drink?" Aizen asked her, coolly. She nearly arrived and reached out for the bottle in desperation before Aizen tipped it back and took a mouthful of it, Ichimin snapping the bottle from his grip after he did and finding it empty. She glared hotly up at him, wanting so much to shove him if she wouldn't have fallen over from the effort.

"You bastard." Ichimin hissed, before noticing him smiling down knowingly on her. He still had a mouthful of it, and she dimly recognized what he was offering her. "You…fuck…shit." Ichimin growled, and the man opposite her smiled as Ichimin was fighting with herself over it. Kind of like eating out of his hand, except Aizen would get something out of it. She was desperate for any alcohol, even if she had to bend to Aizen's whims to get her fix and stave off this horrible withdrawal. Besides, it was just a moment. She would walk away a second after she got what she wanted, and Ichimin could blow Aizen off for as long as she wanted.

"…Fine." Ichimin mumbled, staying perfectly still as her vision swam a moment and she nearly lost her balance. She recovered it quickly, moving a bit closer to Aizen and taking hold of the front of his Las Noches clothes gently. She was playing right into Aizen's hands, but screw her pride and screw him. She leaned up to his face, hesitating a moment when her lips brushed his and she remembered that night when he was the kind gentle soul kissing her. The fake one. The lie. Pushing it out of her mind, Ichimin increased the contact to a full kiss, for a moment marveling at how good it felt to be near someone again before she remembered her situation and got back to her objective. Aizen wasn't moving and Ichimin would've growled at his methods, making her ask him for permission. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip gently and he complied, Ichimin finally getting at that mouthful of sake. It was a familiar and wondrous taste to behold again, and even though the method of transfer was a jackass move, Ichimin didn't regret it in the least.

She pulled back a bit, breaking the kiss. Ichimin got what she wanted, and knew that it was enough to lessen the withdrawal symptoms to a bearable amount. She could walk away and go lie down again, ignore Aizen and punish him in her own way. But she couldn't bring herself to move further away from him than their lips brushing, and some sort of insanity prompted her to kiss him again. He still tasted like sake, which only made it all the better when Aizen finally began to react to Ichimin wanting the kiss, reciprocating it fully. She quickly learned that not even his kisses were the same in this true version of him; Aizen was dominating her mouth, and she didn't mind it in the least. She couldn't remember that she was supposed to hate this man for what he did, couldn't recall that he was a manipulative bastard probably using her for shits and giggles. Ichimin couldn't even think at all really, more of a passionate haze in her mind alongside the need for more contact, the want for more of him. Aizen was firm and dominating, but not rough. She loved it.

And suddenly it was all over as he pulled away a bit and broke the kiss with a soft popping noise of their lips. Ichimin stared up into his smoldering eyes, seeing an amused smile on his lips now. "And only a few days ago, you were saying that you hated me. Your hate changes very quickly when alcohol is involved, doesn't it?" Aizen scorned her, smiling in a derisive and mocking sort of way as he pulled away from her hands gripping his uniform and in his hair, heading to the door. She was left with an ache, and a wondrously crestfallen look about her as he moved through the door. "All my love." Aizen told her as the door shut, and Ichimin fell to her knees alone in the dark and numbingly cold room. The distinctly sweet taste of sake in her mouth was quickly turning chemical, a burning fire on her tongue that illuminated to her all her own guilt. Everything hit her at once; how he could so easily manipulate her, and how easy she herself was to predict and control. Just a bit of contact and she was all over him all over again, would've let him do anything with her. Despite whatever she might say or do, Ichimin belonged to Aizen. He possessed her soul.

* * *

Aizen stood outside of her room, waiting for any sort of noise. In particular, he was waiting for one certain sort of sound, and he most certainly heard it. Ichimin was crying hard and loud, a certain sort of tone in it letting the man outside her door know that she finally realized that one truth she had been evading the entire time. She was his, and once his influence had tainted her soul…she would never escape him. Smiling in a softly victorious sort of way, the Lord of Las Noches turned on his heel and began to drift down the hallway towards his throne room, a grinning shadow soon moving to his side and joining him. They were victorious. And what a fun game it had been.

* * *

**((Just have to let you guys know that updates will probably slow down significantly. I lose my laptop over the summer, but if I jack my sister's then I'll be great. Thanks again, guys!))**


	21. Reignite Your Ire

* * *

It had felt like so long since she'd seen anyone at all. And how close she was to a full-out mental breakdown, how very close she was. Might as well been holding hands with madness. It had been blow after blow to her sanity, and now Ichimin was sitting with that fake normalcy on her face, completely serene in appearance. In reality, she was about to crack. Those withdrawal episodes were gone by now; her detox was done and she was waiting for him. It was all she had left. He'd either help her or he'd break her to pieces, and she was just waiting for him to pick which one.

She heard the door open and looked up at whoever it was, not expecting who she saw. Blue hair, a scowl and piercing blue eyes. That one Espada that didn't say word to her back when she was at the dinner however long ago that was. He was standing in the doorway, looking her up and down as she sat quietly in her seat staring back. "Why the hell are you here?" Ichimin just sort of mumbled in confusion, as he shut the door behind him and glanced back at it as it shut. "Need somewhere to crash. Blew the shit outta my room." He told her vaguely, walking over to the couch where she was and grabbing her by the front of her shirt, dragging her forward to the white floor roughly. She hit the ground hard, looking back to see him drop onto her couch and stretch out. Ichimin glared at him hard, standing up as he closed his eyes and attempted to ignore her. "You fuckhead, don't think you can just move into my room and take over my shit!" She spat, seeing him continue to ignore her. Ichimin growled audibly, now not really giving a fuck if he killed her or not and moving to grab him by the front of his jacket. Instantly his blue eyes opened, glaring a hole through her as he grabbed her wrist and squeezed near tight enough to crack the bone. "Fuck you, slut. This is my shit now, so just shut the fuck up and play nice over there." He growled, moving a bit and giving her a solid kick to the middle of her chest. She was kicked back five or six feet, crashing into the ground painfully as the Sexta rolled over and ignored her. Spitting, Ichimin growled at him. "Fucker. What's your fucking name." She stood again, leaning against the wall. The blue-haired man glanced back at her over his shoulder, staring her down. "Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Fucking idiot." Grimmjow added that last little bit as he turned back away, and Ichimin was now summarily pissed. Standing up, she walked back over to him and he glanced back up as she sat straight down on his stomach. The bitch even crossed her arms and stared down at him in that 'I'm not gonna fucking move you dickhead' kind of way.

"You stupid bitch." Ichimin heard him growl dangerously, before she felt a hand wind her hair around itself tightly, dragging her down not to sit on him but to lay on her back against him, her head pulled backwards to lay over his shoulder and his face right against her neck. Grimmjow snapped a leg to wind over hers, pressing down to keep her from kicking away and his free arm holding her waist down tight. "I ain't gonna fucking play around with you. Don't think just 'cuz you're Aizen's bitch that I won't-" Grimmjow began, before a sudden jerk and she slammed her head into his face, causing him to swear loudly and let her loose a moment. "Fuck you, jackass! For the LAST goddamn time, I'm not Aizen's bitch! I fucking hate that shit!" Ichimin spat, moving to get on her feet before feeling him drag her back by her hair, be thrown down on the couch before he pinned her arms above her head, looking absolutely pissed. He sat on her waist, pinning her legs down with his own and leaning right down in her face, growling dangerously.

"Fuckin' whore. I don't know who you're fucking, an' I don't really give a fuck either. Bet 'yer lying about fucking Aizen, 'cos the bastard's always laughing with Gin 'bout you joining with 'im." Grimmjow growled lowly, and Ichimin could already feel the fire Aizen nearly smothered returning with a vengeance with Grimmjow's dickery. She moved in one smooth motion, slamming her forehead into his and instantly going dizzy as she twisted, throwing him off her. He didn't go far, more or less a step before she was on her feet as well, still dizzy but scowling like hell. "Fuck you. Take the fucking couch, I don't give a shit." Ichimin muttered, blowing past him as he watched her go to the other side of the room, stretching out on the cold floor. Very cold, but she would ignore it. "Fucking bitch." Ichimin heard Grimmjow mutter, before the sound of someone dropping on a couch followed it. They remained in silence for a long time, Ichimin now further from snapping than she had been before. Being pissed had pushed her back closer to herself, because she hadn't been trapped in the void of non-emotion Aizen had seen fit to inflict upon her. No interaction and so no triggered emotions, other than when Aizen came and crushed her soul. From her anger unused for such a long time, or maybe the influence of Las Noches itself, she was losing that tone of respect and trained politeness grounded into her voice by the shinigami academy, now slipping back into her foulmouthed Rukongai dialect. Grimmjow was bringing her life back to her.

"…How'd you break your room." She muttered loudly enough for him to hear, and he answered in a growl. "Cero." Was all he had to say, he thought, until she rolled over and stared at him. "The hell is a cero?" She deadpanned, and he sighed. Forgot she was a dumb bitch, after all.

"Concentrated blast of energy usable by hollows. Soul Society calls 'em Doom Blasts or some shit." The Sexta told her, and she mumbled and remained still in her spot. There was silence between them for the longest time, both ignoring one another as if they didn't exist. The door opened again after what felt like an eternity, and Ichimin just stood up and walked over to Ulquiorra, past him and out the door to wait. Ulquiorra blinked, looking at Grimmjow splayed on her couch and deciding to confront the Sexta later about it.

"What is it?" Ichimin asked stiffly, and Ulquiorra noted the angry fire in her voice. He smoothly walked past her, hearing her begin to follow him as he spoke. "Aizen-sama has requested to speak with you." Was all the monochrome Arrancar told her, and she grunted a bit in response. Now that they were on the same page, both remained silent as Ulquiorra lead her to the large doors at the end of the hall, after a good number of confusing twists in identical hallways, opening them and standing silent and still as a statue.

"Aizen-sama is waiting within." He told her, and Ichimin took a deep breath with her eyes closed, before stepping through. Ulquiorra shut the door behind her, standing in wait for any further need of him.

* * *

**((Short chapter, but finals are happening right now and my creativity is going down the drain. I lose my laptop tomorrow, so updates will slow down significantly. I'll be back in action whenever I can get my hands on another laptop again, and start writing...well, again. Thanks again for reading guys.))**


	22. Crown the Queen

It was dim in the room, a falsely peaceful sort of dim that didn't quite work as intended on Ichimin Kumorigachi, standing near the door and looking for her tormentor. She walked forward a bit, into the middle of the room to look around a bit, not seeing Aizen. Quickly enough she found where he was, his name caught in her throat as arms looped around her waist, and she was pulled back against his taller form. Ichimin chilled slightly at the sudden contact, at the feeling of him leaning down and laying his chin on her shoulder gently. "Hello Ichimin. You're looking well." Aizen breathed on her neck, and she tried to suppress the cold chill running through her at his hot breath on her flesh. She gripped his arms at the wrists, not too tight but just in reflex. "A…you too." She finally responded, closing her eyes and sucking in a gently shuddering breath. It was too familiar, he'd done it back then and Aizen knew exactly what he was doing. Ichimin felt Aizen move his head a bit, laying his lips against her throat. "Something wrong?" He asked her rhetorically, laying gentle kisses along her skin. She shook her head, pulling away as he willingly let her go. Aizen did note that she attempted to hide his effect on her, keeping her expression straight even though her face was slightly flushed.

"No, I'm…fine." Ichimin told him straight, closing her eyes a moment before opening them again. She watched him smile in a sly sort of way, that way that was almost kind but as far from it as possible at the same time. He moved closer to her, brushing past her gently to sit on the other side of a small tea table further back in the room, pouring tea for himself and another glass for Ichimin. She complied with the silent order, sitting opposite him at the table and taking her glass gently. "Thank you, Aizen-sama." She mumbled, blowing gently on her tea before taking a sip. Closing her eyes, she savored the flavor. It was one she hadn't experienced before, and it was quite enjoyable. "Mm. This is good tea." Ichimin told him, and she heard Aizen chuckle.

"Yes, I too am quite partial to it." He told her, speaking from behind his teacup. Ichimin didn't even have to look up to know that he was staring at her intently, analyzing every twitch and change in her tone of voice, looking for what he could and couldn't use against her. Unfortunately, what he could use against her the most were his charms, the ones she fell prey to no matter how hard the woman would attempt to subvert his efforts. She knew she posed no threat to him, that he could kill her or break her beyond fixing at the snap of his fingers. And he knew that she knew.

"Ichimin, how have you enjoyed Las Noches so far?" Aizen queried lightly, and Ichimin's shoulders visibly jerked a bit at a repressed snort. "If we're going to be frank, Aizen, then it pretty much sucks here." Ichimin dove back from 'Aizen-sama' to a more crass tone, back to her speech tactics in Seireitei. And she knew that she'd dropped the –sama honorific from his name, was waiting for a reaction. She got none, besides a pointed stare at her. "I'm sorry to hear that." Aizen stated in a tone that told her he wasn't apologetic in the very least. Ichimin had gained a bit of ground back in the constant tug of war over power between them, though in her heart she knew that whatever distance she had gained would soon be lost and double the original amount. Though she was deluding herself, he was_ letting_ her win. And he never did for very long at all.

Ichimin finished her tea, declining another glass politely. "No, Aizen. I'm fine. But thank you anyway." She mumbled, looking away from him in disinterest. It proved to be a huge mistake as he reached across the table and laid a hand over hers, raising his reiatsu enough to get her attention again. A sort of reprimand.

"Ichimin. I'm talking to you." He told her sternly, without a smile. Instantly pissed on Ichimin's part, and she pulled her hand back from under his and stepped back from the table. "Yeah, and I don't want to hear what you got to say." She muttered, before regretting it instantly as he stood and she prepared to shunpo or jump back or whatever she needed to do to avoid him this time. In fact, she never got the chance as he was there one moment and gone the next, and he had her wrists held tight in one hand and her jaw in another. Ichimin would normally have marveled at the speed of his shunpo had she not been the object of his obvious ire.

"I don't care. You'll listen to me." Aizen told her, and she didn't collapse like the last time he did this. No, she was going to give him the exact sort of hell he'd been wanting her to give him the entire time. "I'll listen to whoever I damn well please, and you're not high up on that list." She hissed, and attempted to pull her hands free of his grip. It was to no avail and he was smiling now, not pissed like he should've been. Well, Aizen never looked pissed, but he should at least look semi-disappointed. That's when he was pissed. No, he was smiling and leaning down while pulling her head up so that her face would be right in his, and Ichimin was unable to look anywhere but his eyes.

"Why do I tolerate all the trouble you give me?" He asked Ichimin almost earnestly, and she could only speak in a whisper. "Because I'm the most fun toy you've got in your toy box." Ichimin spoke gently, and Aizen smiled in the exact same way he had in Soul Society. Though this time, his eyes were nothing of the same type; they were sultry, sublime in intensity and Ichimin didn't even notice as he had released her wrists to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her body against his and had released her jaw, now gently tipping her head up with two fingers to keep her ensnared in his spell. She was most definitely under his control, and the best thing about it all was that she let herself be controlled by him. Ichimin both loved and hated his dominance, how Aizen could control her to do anything he could possibly desire, just by catching her in his gaze.

She absolutely hated how much she loved him.

Aizen moved closer again, pressing their lips together and instantly did he feel Ichimin melt in his arms. It was almost comical the way that even such a small act could leave her moldable clay in his hands. Oh, the denial had been strong and the pain of losing her former life as shinigami had bolstered her spurning him, but once it was gone and she was just Ichimin Kumorigachi again, not Eighth Division Fifth seat Ichimin Kumorigachi or the shinigami Ichimin Kumorigachi, but just herself…she was completely his, absolutely his. Entirely his, and no one else's. It would be good for it to remain like that.

She didn't have the hate she needed to resist him anymore. It had flown away, left her there unguarded and vulnerable to his charms and manipulations. And she'd fallen to them all over again, fallen quite spectacularly. When her arms moved around his neck she didn't know, but Ichimin didn't want to let Aizen go in the slightest anymore, most likely wouldn't have been able to take it if he had left her again like this. His tongue ran across her lip and it was near instantaneous that he was granted what he had requested, from where Aizen quickly dominated the kiss all over again. Somehow, this kiss was far better than any either could remember sharing, far beyond electric. Aizen heard her, felt her groan and smiled, moving from running his free hand along her jaw in a tantalizingly gentle manner to her hair, brushing over her cheek as he did and then running his hand through her hair a bit, tugging gently and pulling her head back a bit for a more dominant manner of kissing. Ichimin didn't mind in the least and pressed her body against his completely, feeling a particular sort of heated friction that drove her to the brink. He broke the kiss and pulled her up against his torso, shunpoing them at that high speed across the large room in an instant, and Ichimin barely noticed through her passionate haze that they went through a door at some point in time. And then, she was dropped on an extravagant bed, huge enough for five or six people and with sheets of what appeared to be black silk. Much nicer than her little couch, though Ichimin didn't have long to ponder it before he was over her again, already beginning to remove her Las Noches uniform with precision that Ichimin herself didn't have with the complicated garment. Soon enough she was topless and he was lavishing attention on her breasts once again, and she splayed her hands across his chest after he gave her some assistance in getting his complicated clothing open enough for her.

It would turn out that the sex with this new, dominant and forceful Aizen was even better to Ichimin than the gentle, kind Aizen. She enjoyed how rough he could get when he wanted to, even through the hard pace of their intercourse did he show her who was the master and who did what that master wanted. She would start to try and take control and he would go much harder, hear her cry out through his pseudo-punishment in the most tantalizing sort of ways. She clawed at his back and he pulled at her hair, she dug her nails in his arms and he nipped at her neck and shoulders, she would try and keep quieter and he would nip at that one spot on her neck that she both loved and hated to hear her shout, loved because it felt great and hated because Aizen knew about it and would remind her who was controlling the sex by utilizing it against her. And at climax, it was more or less a blur of euphorics to her other than crying out his name and laying there as he finished as well, ending with another kiss as he moved around her, throwing the sheets over them and tugging her close to him. Ichimin clung to Aizen, the comforting heat of their bodies lulling her into a satisfied slumber. She was at peace with herself now, allowed to rest quietly with Aizen's arm around her, unintentionally being treated like the queen she hadn't wanted to become in the first place.

* * *

Gin Ichimaru sat in his room leaning away from the wall separating Aizen's room and his own, sighing. "Finally, ya'd think they'd never stop." He mumbled, standing from his lounge chair and moving to his own bed, laying down under the sheets. Reaching over unintentionally, Gin laid a hand over the empty space beside him in bed and stared at the ceiling, quiet for a while. He looked contemplative, having lost the smile in his own personal chambers and now, Gin just looked _tired_. Tired, and a bit remorseful at the space beside him in his own bed being empty. After what felt like an eternity, the unsmiling man rolled onto his side away from the empty space in his bed, staring at the wall that separated his own room from theirs.

"Ichimin sure got some lungs on her." the solitary man muttered, closing his eyes and forcing himself into a sleep deep enough to block out his painful thoughts of who wasn't with him right then.


	23. The Taming of the Shrew

When Ichimin awoke, she was splayed across the silk sheets, staring off at the white ceiling in a daze. So she had done it then, had chosen her side in the war between the people she thought were her friends and the man that possessed her heart, controlled her like a marionette on golden threads. She moved up, supporting herself on her elbows and glancing around the room. Very, very nice; the sheets were silk, the room was lavishly decorated with white furniture (all that was black in the room was the sheets she was tangled up in), and from what she could see, the bathroom was even nicer. Ichimin thought she could see flashes of metallic gold, but who could know. Her attentions wavered from the room, turning to the man beside her in bed. Aizen seemed to be sleeping calmly, and Ichimin marveled at how he looked when there was no hint of deceit in his features, or a cruelly amused glint in his eyes. She laid next to him again, leaning up and pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. Ichimin's hair fanned out as a veil that brushed his chest, and not to her surprise at all, Aizen kissed her back. But of course he was awake; the man didn't let his guard down ever, it seemed. He opened his eyes and smiled up to her in that same way he always did, and it dampened her heart a bit to see. But Ichimin didn't let it show, only smiled warmly down to him.

"Good morning, Ichimin." Aizen told her, and she laughed softly. "Can you call it morning in a world with permanent night?" She queried lightly, and he nodded a bit. "Hollows never knew anything aside from night, unless they wandered to the Living World. The day is a possession of the shinigami, and the few shinigami in Hueco Mundo may bring that day with them." Aizen told her, and she laid her head on his chest and let his body and the bed support her weight again. "I suppose you're right, Aizen-sama." She laughed gently, before feeling him run his hand through her hair. "You are not a servant or a soldier, Ichimin. Call me Sosuke." Aizen told her, and she nodded against his chest. "Alright...Sosuke." She spoke quietly, already feeling him move out from under her and out of the bed. With a slight sigh, Ichimin watched Aizen collect his clothes and head to the bathroom, closing the door for a quick shower probably. She rolled onto her stomach, pulling a pillow under her head for support and closing her eyes. She aligned herself with Sosuke Aizen, great enemy of Soul Society, threat to the only home she could remember. Her home sucked though, so it didn't weigh heavy on her mind. Las Noches was only slightly less comforting than Rukongai, mainly because of the lack of color. If you stripped Rukongai sector Seventy-Nine of color, then Ichimin would have said that Rukongai was far more unwelcoming than Hueco Mundo could ever be. That may just be her opinion though; it was a damn strong one at least. She supressed a yawn, still feeling a bit sore from the night before. The bathroom door opened and the dressed and preened Lord of Las Noches stepped out quickly, handing Ichimin her clothes as well and giving her a quick peck on the lips. "I will see you when you are dressed and ready again. I've important business to attend to, but Stark will lead you to me when you are ready." He told her, before reaching forward and hooking his fingers around the reiatsu-sealing collar circling her neck. It clicked loudly with the precise application of his reiatsu, the loss of the heavy weight around her neck feeling odd to Ichimin. "You don't need this anymore." He told her, turning and heading to the door. She was paid a final smile before he left, closing the door behind him.

"Huh..." Ichimin muttered, rubbing her neck curiously. The woman's reiatsu would return to it's former level over time, rather quickly being surrounded by so many high reiatsus in the white castle of Las Noches. She thought of it a moment longer before making her way to the bathroom, extravagant in design and furnishings. The shower was very nice, and Ichimin probably lingered under the hot water a bit longer than she had to, though she didn't really care. It was quick enough to get dressed again, brush out her hair, pull on her shoes and head out the door Aizen had gone through, glancing to her left and seeing the disinterested Stark lingering there like an eerie shadow. Well, more tired than eerie, seeing as he looked to be wanting a nap. "Stark." Ichimin gave a nod to him, and he, waved a bit. "Hey, Kouhi-sama." He told her, and she froze. "Hm? What did you call me?" Ichimin asked dumbfounded, as Stark explained. "Aizen's requested that you be referred to hereafter as Kouhi-sama by all the Arrancar within Las Noches." He informed her, and she blinked. "Queen? I'm no..." she trailed off, before realizing what Aizen was doing. Already, he was starting to lock her in place at his side. Ichimin sighed between her teeth, a low hissing noise before she shook her head. "Let's just go, alright...Primera-san?" The woman requested, and Stark nodded and began to lead her through the hallways in silence, though it seemed less...oppressive as before. Less him being one of her captors and more him being her guard, and Ichimin had to say that it was both nice and...well, sort of horrible. She didn't like being treated as a queen, had never liked being above others. More suited to being the drunkard, honestly.

They arrived and Stark opened the door for her, waiting for her and looking sort of bored. She stepped through the door and immediately stared at the fact that it was a huge and dark room with rows of Arrancar sitting around, and Aizen in a throne high above her. Before she could even follow what was happening, Ichimin had a hand on her forearm and was standing next to Aizen's throne with Stark letting go of her arm and nudging her forward, before disappearing. The hollow version of shunpo, Ichimin could only guess.

"Ichimin, just in time." Aizen told her with a smile, reaching out and taking her hand. He tugged her towards him, pulling her over the arm of his throne and into his lap. Ichimin could hear some snickering from the Arrancar sitting around them, and even a wolf whistle from the crowd. She was about to say something when Aizen turned her head to face him and kissed her, keeping his eyes scanning over the hollows watching. Ichimin realized that he was showing the Arrancars who she belonged to, and it wasn't something that Kumorigachi appreciated in the least. She attempted to get out of his lap and maybe sit on the floor next to his throne or something, but Aizen having an arm around her waist and holding her there prevented any escape. Fortunately enough, the sound of footsteps caught Aizen's attention and he broke the kiss, leaving Ichimin to remain in his lap like a pet and watch Ulquiorra and Yammy walk in, the larger Cero Espada looking significantly more beat up than the unmarred Cuarta. "Ulquiorra, welcome back." Aizen spoke, in a commanding tone. Ichimin was tempted to speak up, tell Aizen to shove off and let her sit where she wanted like a normal human being, but remained silent for now out of curiosity as to how Yammy was beaten up so badly.

"Give your report." Aizen ordered, and Ulquiorra complied, pulling...out...his...eye. Ichimin grimaced, Aizen's expression didn't change. And when Ulquiorra crushed it to dust, and the magical dust flew everywhere, Ichimin immediately held her breath and closed her eyes. She was like this a moment, before feeling a nudge and opening her eyes to look at Aizen, staring at her. "Take a breath. It is merely memory transfer." He told her, closing his eyes and leaning back in his throne. Ichimin mused for a moment about how peaceful he looked all over again like that, before finally taking a breath and leaning against him, closing her eyes as well. She watched that orange haired kid that saved her from execution, Ichigo Kurosaki, getting half-killed by Yammy. Ulquiorra said something about them being trash, a pretty orange haired girl with Matsumoto-grade tits used some odd technique that didn't work, and Yoruichi and Urahara paid a visit and saved them. While she was watching it all, Ichimin felt Aizen lean his head against hers, the crown of her head under his chin. Even as the image faded, she didn't want to move right away until Aizen nudged her back a bit, listening to Grimmjow argue with Ulquiorra and Yammy.

It ended as Aizen gave Ulquiorra his trust in handling Kurosaki, and Ulquiorra and Yammy left an obviously seething Grimmjow. When Aizen dismissed the meeting, he loosened his grip on Ichimin's waist and she sprung to her feet, staring hard at him. Aizen didn't look too bothered by it, not bothered in the least. "Ichimin, come along." He half-ordered, and she crossed her arms. Damn it, he was deciding what she was going to do, and Ichimin wasn't really one to just follow without having a damn good reason to. She didn't move, and after a few steps, Aizen looked back over his shoulder, unsmiling. "A problem?" He asked her, and she stared on. "I'm not your dog, Sosuke." Ichimin told him, feeling a few gazes lingering on her back as the bravest of the Arrancar stuck around to watch the possible fight. Aizen turned back completely, to face her. "No, but I am still your Lord, and you will do as I say." He told her with a tone of impatience behind the normal smoothness of his voice, and Ichimin tched. "I want to be treated as an equal, not as your fuck toy when you get bored." She snapped at him, before a crushing reiatsu sent her straight to the cold white floor.

"You forget your place." Aizen told her as he stood in front of her crumpled form, watching her lay at his feet, completely catatonic. She couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, couldn't even twitch a finger. Ichimin was terrified at the feeling of being unable to breathe, move, do anything at all. Complete paralysis was absolutely horrifying, almost as much as the slowly increasing feeling of suffocation. Aizen just stood, watched her drool on the floor with a terrified, wide-eyed stare at the white throne that she couldn't move her eyes from, and he counted the seconds silently. At around sixty seconds, he let his reiatsu dissipate and immediately she began sucking in air and coughing violently, rolling onto her stomach and continuing on. Aizen waited silently, and Ichimin couldn't suck in air fast enough. Well, she could, but it only made her choke and cough long, hard, and painfully. By the end, her eyes had watered and it looked as if she were crying. Maybe she was, and just wouldn't admit it. Good thing her hair fanned out and hung in her face, kept her state hidden from Aizen besides the gagging and the coughing. Ichimin moved to her hands and knees, still at Aizen's feet.

After she calmed down enough to be capable of breathing, Aizen moved to a knee and turned her chin up so that she would look at him again, his eyes soft and warm as the smiles he wore in Seireitei. "There there, are you done? Poor thing, I'm very sorry I had to do that to you." Aizen spoke gently, using the sleeve of his white coat to wipe away the bit of drool from her mouth to her chin, and she remained silent and staring at him. Aizen continued, brushing away her tears with his thumb. "I'm really very sorry, but you need to remember who you serve, Ichimin. You serve me. You are my queen, but I am still your king." He told her, before his hand was slapped away and left stinging while Ichimin shot to her feet.

"Don't you fucking touch me." She hissed, and Aizen frowned at her reaction. He really hadn't expected her to be so damn difficult all the time. He could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes, whether from sadness or anger, he couldn't quite tell. "Ichimin..." Aizen sighed, standing and taking a step towards her. She turned away from him quickly, shunpoing down to the ground level and walking angrily to the door the Arrancar had left through. Ichimin disappeared through the doorway, pissed. At Aizen. Again. The man himself closed his eyes a moment, taking in a deep breath before turning, walking in the opposite direction and down the circular staircase leading to the balcony downstairs. Descending, he ran ideas of how the situation had gone wrong through his mind, coming to the bottom of the stairs and staring off distractedly. In a rare moment of emotion, Aizen slammed his palm against the stone wall and felt the material shudder under his fingertips.

"Havin' some trouble with her, again?" Gin's sly voice echoed from down the hallway, and Aizen straightened up while dropping his hand to his side. "She won't break. I am growing tired of this game of back and forth bickering." He sighed a bit, free hand trailing to the hilt of Kyoka Suigetsu. There was always that option. "Well, ya gotta admit, she's got a reason to be pissed." Ichimaru mused, having slunk to Aizen's side. The brunette man stared with a slight confusion at Gin. "I fail to see how this is my fault." He stated, earnestly. Gin chuckled a bit, looking over at his fellow. "Last I checked, full-body paralysis an' suffocation as a means of discipline wasn't somethin' to be happy 'bout." Ichimaru deadpanned with his permanent grin, and Aizen closed his eyes to take a deep, calming breath. "I cannot let her run loose." He told Gin, who shrugged. "Ya, I know. But you're just too used to disciplining subordinates, instead of correcting someone important to you. Ya just can't use the same techniques; gotta be...creative." Ichimaru smirked, and Aizen thought a moment.

"You have experience in correcting your Rangiku, don't you?" He queried, and Gin nodded. "Just a bit. I'll help ya, Sosuke. We can tame ya girl." He reassured, smirking malevolently. Looking out the balcony, to the permanently dark sky, he continued. "Tha's right, all we gotta do is make you her only option. Last time, she damn near cracked. Don't think she can take the same kinda treatment without snapping this time. Nah, now we know how to get her." He muttered, and Aizen looked off into the deserts as well. "And how is this?" He asked, distantly curious. Gin smiled even more maliciously. "Well Sosuke, she's weak to you. All we had to do was get her in ya room last time, and you did the rest. Those shields crumbled pretty damn easily, didn't they?"

Aizen smirked a bit, catching Ichimaru's drift. "Yes, yes they did. I see what you are saying. She has nothing left to fall back on but me; Ichimin is mistrustful of you, has no connection with Tosen, fears the Espada and is loathed by the Arrancar in general. The only one she can fall back to is myself." He chuckled, and Ichimaru grinned a bit more. "Lock her old room up, don't let her have anywhere else t' sleep but your bed. She gets in your bed, you work your voodoo, ya can bed her. Show her that ya do everything for a reason, make her think you do it all for her and her own good. Do that, and Ichimin's gonna start to trust you. Obey you blindly."

As Ichimin marched around Las Noches, blindly grasping for anywhere to go other than back to his room, Aizen smiled still. "Yes, Gin. Let's tame Ichimin Kumorigachi."


	24. Abandoned

Oh, the level of pissed Ichimin was happened to be astronomical. She thought all manner of things about Aizen, all of them negative as she wandered the Las Noches hallways. "Fucking asshole...bastard...possessive fucker..." She muttered under her breath, coming to her old room. It was by luck she found it, but when she tried the door, Ichimin swore aloud at finding it preemptively locked. "Shit!!" She shouted, beating on the closed door with her fist a few times, before kicking it and giving up. She went on down the hallway, dragging her feet and looking absolutely murderous. A few Arrancar dodged her on her warpath, none of them above Numero level. Even when she felt a reiatsu stalking her steps, Ichimin didn't stop, didn't speed up, didn't run, didn't do anything besides look pissed. Instead, she turned quite suddenly to stare at whoever it was. Nobody was behind her, it looked like. But she continued walking backwards, right into somebody.

"'Sup Ichimin." A familiar voice echoed behind her, making her skin crawl in the slick tone he used. Hands were placed on her shoulders, and all Ichimin did was keep her vision straight ahead, and not showing anything other than pissiness on her expression. "Not in the goddamn mood, Gin." She growled, closing her eyes to try and keep relatively calm. That was actively subverted when Ichimaru hugged her back against him, laying his chin on her shoulder and his cheek against hers. Memories of being trapped in a certain Shishinro on death row in this exact position came flooding back, and Ichimin felt her knees threaten to give out from the terror of it. "Aw, ya so cold. Sosuke's not too happy with ya, either. Mostly 'cos ya acting like you're PMSing." He told her slickly, and she regained her composure when the anger returned. "Fuck him. I'm not his dog, and I won't follow him around like one. I don't play to your goddamn whims either." Ichimin hissed, shoving away from Gin. Instantly, and far quicker than she could track, Ichimin was slammed against the hallway wall with Gin's hand around her throat, the heel of his palm pressing hard enough into her windpipe to keep her from being able to speak. He really didn't need to do that, though, because just the look on his face froze her stiff. Gin's smile was gone, and his eyes were open. And they were the craziest, most insane shade of bright icy blue that she'd ever seen.

"You're in dangerous territory, Ichimin. Remember that Aizen controls the entirety of Las Noches, and right now, he's not too happy with you. If he wanted you dead..." Gin trailed off, and something sharp pressing against her chest alerted Ichimin to the blade of Shinso being aimed over her heart. He didn't need to finish the sentence; the message was crystal clear. His leaning closer drew her eyes from the blade of Shinso back to his face, leaning right in hers. "...It really wouldn't be a waste at all. And believe me, he's very, _very _close to having someone take care of you. Actually, I'm very sure he'd let me play with you a bit beforehand." The tone of his voice changed from cold to cruelly amused, and Ichimin felt him drag Shinso across her flesh, up to her shoulder. She gritted her teeth as the blade cut her skin, shallowly but enough to bring pain and to cause red to bloom on her white clothes.

"Yes, I'm sure he'd let me have some fun. Though I can't guarantee that you'd survive a night with me." He told her, and the implications of his statement caused her to try and shove him away. "Get...away..." She choked, before hearing him chuckle lowly and then feeling his grip tighten, cutting off her oxygen completely. "Won't work, dear. After all, you just got that tacky collar off. Your reiatsu is much, much too low for you to even give me trouble if I ever wanted to do anything with you." He told her nonchalantly, digging Shinso in a little deeper and twisting the blade. Ichimin could only cough, as her eyes watered with pain. He leaned in a little closer, whispering against her cheek with a malevolent, sly smile.

"I get very lonely at night, you know. I do miss my Ran-chan. But you know, _I wouldn't mind a good replacement_."

The tone in his voice filled Ichimin with terror, as he pulled the blade of Shinso from her body and leaned down, running his tongue across the wound in her shoulder. It caused her pain, though Ichimin couldn't do a thing as the hallway began to spin from lack of oxygen. What was with them and suffocating her? It worked well enough; the feeling was terrifying, though Ichimin was getting close to passing out. He saw her eyes roll back and immediately released her, tossing Ichimin to the floor roughly. She coughed, sucking in air that burned her lungs like fire. Gin's expression was back to it's normal state, eerie smile and eyes closed once more as he nonchalantly licked the blade of Shinso clean and sheathed it again. "Ya gotta remember Ichimin; you ain't in Seireitei no more. Aizen's the only thing keepin' me or any of the Espada from doin' whatever we want with ya." He reminded her cheerily, before he cheekily blew her a kiss in the way of kissing his fingertips and flicking his hand out in her direction at the wrist, before turning on his heel and walking down the hallway as if nothing had ever happened, whistling a merry tune.

Ichimin remained on the floor, the room still spinning for a good while after Gin left. When she finally could regain her balance, the front of her uniform was stained red. It wasn't bleeding heavy enough to kill her, only a shallow cut, but it looked bad enough. The encounter had shocked into her exactly how hostile Las Noches was, and how even who she once thought to be a friend could threaten her life and slice her up without a second thought. She moved to her hands and knees, before getting back on her feet and beginning to walk. The Espada were walking as well, presumably from a meeting. She hovered back a ways, waiting for a certain man to leave as she kept a hand on her bloody chest. The Espada that gave a shit stared at her a bit oddly from all the blood, but said nothing and dispersed to whatever they were going to do. And then he walked out, as regal as always. Only then did Ichimin move forward, towards Sosuke Aizen as he made his way from the meeting room.

"Sosuke-" She rasped, reaching for him. She didn't know what she wanted to say, just maybe wanted a smile or something similar.

And she only caught a dismissive glance from the man, uninterested in her or why she was bleeding. Ichimin loosely gripped his sleeve, and he just kept walking right by her with no further recognition of her existence. Blood smeared across his white jacket as her bloody fingers ran across the fabric, eventually losing contact as he walked right past her and in the opposite direction, ignoring her completely. What he didn't say told her everything she'd ever need to know.

_'You're alone. You've got no one other than him, and he's even done with you. You're fucking alone.'_

Leaving her standing alone in the hallway, Ichimin covered her face with her bloody hand, smearing blood across her own face. Her eyes burned with tears she wouldn't let spill over, and slowly, she walked in the opposite direction of Aizen, down a random hallway in search of some sort of solace.

* * *

Gin Ichimaru walked until he was a good distance away from Ichimin and anyone else, before losing his smile again. He turned his head, spitting her blood out onto the floor with distaste. He sighed a bit, under his breath. "'Yer a cruel man, Aizen. Wonder if she's got any of herself left when ya done." He said aloud, before turning back on his path, affixing his smile again, and going on his way with a spot of regret in his heart.

You'd never be able to tell it from looking at him, though.


	25. Ditch the Moral

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Ichimin was currently laying against the wall of a random Las Noches hallway, sitting in a dark corner and hoping not to be seen. Though blending in was kind of difficult, considering the blood on her uniform. It was a shallow wound, had stopped bleeding by now, but still marked her out more than she already was. Now Ichimin truly knew what it was like for an ex-shinigami to fall out of favor with Aizen; it meant anyone could do anything with her, and she wouldn't be able to raise a hand against them. She needed her Kyokkou to do any sort of damage, and Aizen still had it. She was unarmed, because Ichimin was still terrified of using Kido or Hado.

A familiar reiatsu passed by; not familiar, not very much, but she could recognize it. Ichimin needed somewhere to sleep, and maybe this person wouldn't give enough of a fuck to care if she slept in a corner or not. Or he could rape her to death. Fuck, either one sounded better than laying around in an icy cold hallway and waiting for Gin to get bored enough to find her and do whatever he felt like. Ichimin stood, suppressing what little reiatsu she'd recovered as she followed his steps like a shadow. If he noticed her, he didn't give any sign of it and merely slipped into his room, with Ichimin waiting a moment for some other Arrancar to leave his room. They did, four or five of them, probably out to do whatever they felt like. Kill, maim, rape, whatever. She was giving enough risk as it is, knocking on his door after they were gone. She crossed her arms over her bloody chest and stared up as Grimmjow Jeagerjaques opened the door and stared at her like she was some sort of freak.

"The fuck you here?" He half-asked, half-demanded while eying the blood on her clothes. "Aizen's being a dick and Ichimaru's fond of carving me up. I got nowhere." she told him, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, so?" She closed her eyes at the response, garnering her will before answering. "I let you sleep in my room. You owe me the same." Ichimin deadpanned, before staring straight at him. They stared off for a moment, before Grimmjow moved aside a bit and gestured inside. "Get the fuck inside before I change my goddamn mind." He told her, and she slipped inside and found the corner of the room, laying on the floor and rolling away to face the wall. "Thanks." She told him, before hearing footsteps coming towards her and feeling herself being dragged to her feet by her hair. All Ichimin did was grit her teeth and bite her lip a bit, staring hard at him as he stared right through her. "Hey bitch, I never told you that you could lay down." Grimmjow growled in her face, and Ichimin was so far past afraid that she didn't even blink. "You never fucking told me I couldn't, stupid shit." She snapped, half-waiting for a cero through the face. Instead, she got punched. In the mouth. With reiatsu added to it. Needless to say, Ichimin hit the floor pretty fucking hard. She landed face down on the cold white floor, already feeling pain blooming in her mouth. Grimmjow watched her move from the floor a bit, hair hanging to hide her face from him.

"Everyone got some sort of kink for beating the shit out of me?" She asked rhetorically from the floor, flipping her hair out of her face and spitting on the floor. Tooth, great. Two teeth, as she spat a second out. The blood ran from her split lip, and she didn't really give a fuck. Way, way past giving a fuck about anything that happened to her. "Fuck, I don't even care anymore. Kill me, you'd be doing me a goddamn favor." She growled, moving right to her knees, kneeling in front of him. Something was gone now, something was propelling her on in that ideal. If this man was going to kill her, by god, he'd better do it now.

"Kill me! Kill me right now! Do it, Grimmjow! Kill me!!" She shouted, her voice strong yet strained, as she kneeled before a surprised Grimmjow. Ichimin didn't have the slightest bit of fear in her eyes, and only desperation was in her voice as she begged the Sexta Espada for death. Aizen, Ichimaru, the Arrancar, the loss, the abandonment, the violence, the looming shade of death, the everything was crashing down on her at this exact moment. When Grimmjow didn't respond, just stared at her, Ichimin couldn't stop herself from going on. "I'm sick of Las Noches! Not fit to be here, not at all! I'm a goddamn alcoholic with shellshock and abandonment issues, for fuck's sake! Do you really think I'm happy to live here?? Hell no! I want you to kill me, because the only man that I've truly loved was a sham! A lie! An...illusion." The fervor of her voice died down here, sinking down into a quiet tone. "I'm...alone, alright? I can never leave, I've got nowhere left to go...and I doubt Aizen would let me leave anyway. Even if I did fall back into Aizen's favor, let him do as he wished with me, played to his every whim, I'd never be happy. Me and him, there's no affection in the relationship that isn't possessive, isn't dominating. And if I could even go back to Seireitei, somehow, what would I have to look forward to? It's a world where the equivalent of Heaven is to live in poverty within Rukongai, lorded over by death gods generally more interested in getting into fights with each other than doing their jobs." Ichimin muttered, closing her eyes. "My faith in this world, in any world at all is gone." She spoke quietly, hanging her head in something akin to shame, or maybe it was just defeat in every way. She moved down now, from just her knees to hands and knees, groveling at Grimmjow's feet.

"So kill me. Please...please, just kill me." Ichimin begged Grimmjow, and she could hear nothing but silence for a good long while. Eventually though, the sound of a blade being drawn reached her ears and she braced herself for him to decapitate her, end her life with a sort of mercy that she wouldn't have expected from a hollow. The cheery, genial alcoholic content with drowning her sorrows in cheap alcohol was long gone now; all the happiness was ripped from her forcibly by none other than the man she'd loved, in the attempt to make her a complacent queen attending to his every whim and wish. Better to die now, with some semblance of her mind and honor left intact. She heard him step back, preparing to end her life, and braced herself. Maybe she would end up with a happy life reincarnated into a human being. Yes, maybe she could become an alcoholic again. Wouldn't that be nice?

The edge of a ragged blade pressed under her chin, moving upwards to turn her head so that she was looking up at Grimmjow. Instantly did Ichimin catch a kick right to the face, sending her sprawling across the white floor, making her incredibly dizzy from the pure force of it. "Stupid bitch. Like hell I'll give you the satisfaction of havin' me kill you. If you're gonna die, why don't you off your own damn self instead of making me do all the fucking work." Grimmjow proclaimed, and Ichimin sat up holding her bloody nose with more than a bit of confusion on her part.

"Wait...hunh?" She spoke in pure confusion, offhandedly noticing that her nose was broken. Grimmjow was sheathing his Zanpakuto again, staring her down disgustedly. "Don't you fucking 'hunh' me. If you had any fucking pride at all, you'd be thinking of ways to fuck Aizen over instead of just fucking rolling over and dyin'. Guess I shouldn't have expected anything more from a stupid fucking whore of Aizen's, though. My fucking bad." Jeagerjaques scorned her, before spitting on the woman at his feet and walking off. Needless to say, Ichimin was beyond dumbfounded as she sat on her ass with a broken nose and a reason to live. It wasn't a very good one, and she would likely lose the ability to do that over time, but it would keep her alive for now. Grimmjow dropped on his couch, rolling away from her and Ichimin pondered the way to get to Aizen the worst.

An idea. One that would equal kicking Aizen right in the crotch.

Grimmjow had his eyes closed and his back turned to her, not even keeping tabs on Ichimin. He really didn't give a shit what she did, only vaguely paid attention to the sound of her standing and walking. He did notice, however, when she grabbed him by the shoulder and forcibly rolled him onto his back, before straddling his waist and glaring right down at his caught off-guard face.

"Piss off Aizen? I can think of one good thing that I'd be able to do right now." She spoke lowly, and roughly while splaying her hands on his chest.

Alright. Grimmjow had been expecting some sort of reaction. But...yeah. Not this one. Since when did breaking a woman's nose and knocking out a couple teeth mean she was going to come onto you? Never happened to him before now. "The...the fuck? Get the hell off me!" He snapped, attempting to buck her off. Ichimin dug in her nails, noticing that she wasn't breaking the skin because of that hierro the hollows had been talking about now and then.

"Go fuck yourself; you're the one that didn't kill me, I get to do what I want. I've got a reason to live because of you, so you better fucking sit back and enjoy it." Ichimin snapped at him beneath her, already moving off him and working her fingers under the edge of his hakama. Grimmjow shot up to a sitting position, getting ready to shove her back when she started.

Well, of all the things Grimmjow Jeagerjaques had expected to happen today, getting blown by the Lady of Las Noches (pending) hadn't been one of them. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He didn't shove her off after all, more or less settled back and let her do as she pleased, which was currently something he liked. A lot. Ichimin herself didn't all that much mind being on her knees giving oral to a man she didn't really know beyond kicking her in the teeth. Not like she hadn't ever sucked off a complete stranger to get money before. In fact, she didn't mind at all just for the opportunity to fuck Aizen over royally if the situation gave her the option. What was quickly turning into a sort of game between herself and the Sexta was that he wasn't making any noise or appreciative sounds, and she knew he was doing it on purpose so as not to give her the satisfaction of a job well done. Too bad for Grimmjow that Ichimin prided herself in giving a pretty good blowjob. Ah, the days in Rukongai were coming right back to her. She pulled off him, staring the Sexta dead in the eye.

"You're not gonna win this game, Sexta. What Aizen don't know is that the lovely sordid past I've got in the Seventy-Ninth sector includes a stint in a brothel."

Right about then she started again, making sure to show him about that nice gag reflex she didn't have. Then Ichimin heard him growl a bit under his breath, more like a low purr than anything. "Oh fuck yes." He mumbled, before Ichimin felt him thread his fingers through her hair and forcibly speed her pace up a bit. Not long at all before the bastard pulled her off and made sure to get her right in the fucking face.

"You asshole!" She snapped, wiping her face off as he did himself back up. It was silent for a moment before she heard him speak again.

"Why? Any sort of goal you accomplish by sucking dick?" Grimmjow queried as she finished cleaning her face off, moving up from her knees with a bit of a sigh. "I'll never be able to resist Aizen, Jeagerjaques. He's got his claws too deep in me for me to do the slightest against him. But..." Ichimin trailed off, smoothing out her clothes with her hands and offhandedly checking to see if her nose was still bleeding.

"Maybe the next time Aizen kisses me, I can get the satisfaction of knowing that he's tasting your dick." She grinned wryly at him over her shoulder, before seeing Grimmjow grin back conspiratorily. "You're a fucking slut, you know that?" the Sexta smirked, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head, before opening one to keep an eye on her. Ichimin's grin faded down to a sad sort of smile, as she shook out her hair and made sure her face was clean enough so as not to be suspect.

"Yeah, I know." Ichimin sighed, heading for the door. When she reached it, Ichimin tossed a wave over her shoulder back to the Sexta. "Hey, if Aizen takes me back and I ever get pissed off at him again, you wouldn't mind me using you like a revenge vibrator, would you?" She queried, and Grimmjow shook his head slightly. "Not a bit." He told her, and she slipped out the door while looking for Aizen. Now she was past her old pride and any sort of self-respect holding her back. If she was going to survive in Las Noches, then she'd have to develop a new set of morals.

"I'm gonna lose, but I'm ready to go toe-to-toe with you again, Sosuke Aizen." Ichimin Kumorigachi told the empty hallway, already preparing to lose.


	26. Lords and Ladies, Kings and Queens

Nothing was left for her to hold onto.

Nothing left for her to keep, not even morals or self-respect; Grimmjow had served more than just the purpose of spite to Aizen. When she became a shinigami, Ichimin Kumorigachi swore that she'd never go back to her bordello days, under pain of losing any self-worth she'd ever gained. And with her little favor to Jeagerjaquez, Ichimin felt like a filthy fucking whore all over again. Good, now she had no self-respect left to get in the way of attaining what little semblance of happiness she could. She wasn't letting herself have anything left to have pride in, was throwing it all away so that she could attempt to live here. And to do that, she would need to lose it all and give everything left of herself to him. Well, more like put the shreds of her sanity into his hands to do with what he wished, whether that be to crush them underfoot or to tie them around her limbs to use as marionette strings.

_'I'm done with the games, with playing like I have some sort of control here. I don't; I'm his doll and he can play with me in any way he'd like, until I get boring and he just snaps my fucking head off.'_

Ichimin was walking down the stark white hallway, ignoring any other being nearby in lieu of keeping straight for her destination. She was just walking, looking for the familiar pair of huge doors marring the clean white walls. Ichimin's hair was disheveled, had a black eye from the toe of Grimmjow's sandal when he kicked her in the nose, was missing two teeth, had a split lip, her clothes were bloody from Gin's little game earlier, and she generally looked like complete, unadulterated hell. Plus, the look of both loathing and resignation in her sharp eyes made her look even more intimidating, more...exhausted. She had her arms crossed, tucked in against her body and under her breasts in a sort of unconscious defense mechanism. However this next encounter happened, it could be her last. Then again, every time she and he met, it could very well have been her last. She came to the doors, moving her hands out to press against the cold (unnaturally cold, though her palms were long numb to the abnormal temperature of the place) material and push open the door, feeling a breeze of cool air from within the dark room beyond.

_'Now or never, and I don't have the option of never.'_

Ichimin walked forward into the room, the large dim area that made her footsteps echo as she walked along the white flooring, keeping her eyes down until she was standing alone in the middle of it all. Even then, Ichimin could feel his gaze burning into her and made sure to keep from meeting it. Of course he was staring right through her; the self-declared God was never her friend, and never pretended to be. She remained silent, keeping her eyes down.

"Gin, get it out of my throne room." He spoke from his throne, an order understood completely by the fox-like second-in-command. Instantly, Ichimin felt someone beside her and knew he was smiling down at her, knew he had insidious things planned for her as soon as he got his paws on her. "Come on, Ichimin." She heard him speak slyly, felt long fingers close on her shoulder. It was then that she dropped to her knees, making Ichimaru lose his grip on her. She didn't look up, not even then, only kept her eyes on the floor.

"I give up." She said loud enough for Sosuke Aizen to hear up on his throne high above, her voice clear and without a moment's hesitancy. Ichimaru reached down for her again but Aizen raised his hand a bit, to stop his right-hand-man. "Repeat yourself, and show me exactly how much you give to me." Aizen ordered her, and watched as Ichimin moved to her hands and knees, her face very nearly touching the floor.

"I give up, I surrender to you. I give you everything. There's no point in trying to live any other way; you've dug your claws in too deep. Take my name, take my life, take anything you wish from me. I've got no self-worth, no semblance of the contented drunk left in me. You've torn it all out of me." Ichimin proclaimed, basically groveling and finding a dull amazement in how easily the words came. She heard him move a bit, before feeling that his reiatsu had moved as well to be right before her. Shunpo, no doubt. It was confirmed when the back of her uniform was tugged at very slightly, and she reacted accordingly to move to her knees. Aizen was staring coldly down into her eyes, searching for any deceit or plotting to her words. All he saw was what was left of a broken woman, one who fully understood that without him, she was nothing within the walls of Las Noches.

"Stand." Aizen ordered her, and Ichimin stood before him with her head bowed subserviently. Ichimaru had done wise to make himself scarce, though he was most likely watching from the shadows as he always seemed to be. Reaching forward, Aizen gently moved her chin upwards with two fingers to make Ichimin meet his eyes again. His stare was cold, unmoved. "Who do you serve?" He asked her, quietly. "You." Ichimin replied, her tone dull and listless. Aizen brushed his thumb along her bruised jawline, keeping eye contact with the woman at his mercy. "Who owns you?" He asked her, and she responded immediately. "You do." Ichimin told him, barely noticing how dispirited her own voice was.

"Who is your God, Ichimin Kumorigachi?" Aizen spoke against her lips, feeling her shudder under his gentle touch. She answered him simply, completely broken to his will and whims.

"You, Aizen-sama." She told him in a whisper, feeling Aizen smiling victoriously, cruelly so. Scarcely a moment passed after she spoke, before he pressed forward and his lips fully met hers, warm and as gentle as he had been back in his illusory state within Seireitei. She didn't move at all, and gave no protests at Aizen laying a hand on the small of her back and pressing her body fully against his. Slowly, Ichimin moved her hands from her side to gently grip the front of his outfit, opening her mouth to him at the slight swipe of his tongue across her bottom lip. She knew he could taste the blood from where Grimmjow had knocked out her teeth, and if anything, he got a little more dominant in their kiss. Not that Ichimin was offering any resistance to him, and truthfully, that was a bit boring. Ichimin felt Aizen wrap his arm around her waist, locking her against him as he ran his other hand through her hair, soothingly. He broke the kiss gently, moving Ichimin to lay her head against his chest.

"Ichimin, I'm very happy you're mine again." Aizen told her calmly, and Ichimin nodded against his chest. "Yes...now I know that you're the only thing I've got. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble...Sosuke." She hesitated on using his first name, but he only chuckled a bit and continued to run his fingers through her long hair. "No trouble at all, Ichimin. You're very important to me, after all." He tucked her head under his chin, his warm breath ghosting over her skin as he breathed and spoke. "Do you love me, Ichimin?" Aizen asked her, and after a moment, Ichimin nodded very slowly.

"I didn't want...to admit it. Not after I found out that you weren't who you were in Soul Society. But it never died out. I couldn't ever smother it completely, no matter how hard I tried." She admitted to him, remaining silent a moment before speaking.

"Do you love me, Sosuke?" Ichimin asked him gently, feeling his chest tighten a bit at the question. He was silent a long while, the question hanging thick in the stagnant air of his throne room. She lifted her head to look up at him curiously, and he was looking off in the distance with a troubled stare. Every moment he didn't answer, Ichimin felt her heart growing heavier and heavier. After a last moment, Aizen turned back to her and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and sighing a bit.

"That question is...complicated, Ichimin. It's not 'yes' or 'no'. I am not a man to give his heart away, and even if I was...I would not be a man to say it aloud. I'm the sort of man that remains a cipher for a reason. If I was to express attachment to any one thing, then there would always be the risk of that one favored thing being targeted and used against me. It's dangerous enough for me to show them that I even care about you in the least." He explained to her, and he opened his eyes to see her close hers.

"I don't care if I'm in danger or not because of you, and you know that." Ichimin told him, as he noticed that she was gripping his clothes even tighter. After a moment of silence, she asked him another question, a quiet one that Aizen wasn't expecting.

"Sosuke...do you care if I live or die?"

He stared down at her as she moved back, only very slightly, to stare up at him. Aizen stared down on her, meeting her gaze as she met his unflinchingly. Gently, he brushed her hair out of her face, brushing his fingertips along her bruised skin.

"...I would miss you if you were killed." He told her, and she smiled a bit at the answer. To Aizen's surprise, Ichimin kissed him gently for a moment before pulling back, running a soft hand along his cheek with that same small smile.

"That's as straight an answer as I'm ever going to get, isn't it?" Ichimin asked him with a bit of laughter in her voice, though it was small at best. Aizen chuckled a bit, leaning his head into her hand gently.

"Most likely."

Ichimin laughed a bit at the answer, laying her head on his chest again with a smile and letting her hand fall to his shoulder. Aizen watched her close her eyes and listen to his heartbeat, smiling down on her gently.

"I suppose this means I'm your queen again?" Ichimin asked him softly, and Aizen answered her quietly as well.

"Yes, it does. And right now, I think that the queen needs to have her injuries treated." Right about then, the sound of the door opening caught Ichimin's ear, though she didn't bother looking over at whoever it was, as Aizen spoke again. She heard him, marveling at the titles he spoke of before Aizen gently pushed her towards Gin Ichimaru, who was going to escort her to being treated by the impromptu doctor of Las Noches, Szayel Aporro Grantz. Said 'doctor' was currently waiting in the doorway, impatiently. Aizen watched Ichimin go willingly with them, the titles ringing in her ears as he returned to his throne and she was off to be treated.

"The Lord and Lady of Las Noches, Sosuke Aizen and Ichimin Kumorigachi."


	27. Blackmail

Funny how it all works out.

She started off a cynical, self-hating drunkard sipping her pain and guilt away, bottle by bottle. Then, she turned into a devoted idiot dragging after Aizen's every step, complacent and trusting to a dangerous extent. Then she was a death row inmate, a pariah within Soul Society hated for something she did but didn't intent to do. Then, a prisoner locked within the confines of her lover's castle, slowly losing her sanity bit by bit. And after she relented and then mustered her will against him once more, Aizen tossed her out to the mercy of her unintentional home, waited for her to come crawling back. She did.

And now?

Ichimin was sprawled out in bed with Aizen all over again, his head on her bare chest and her fingers running through his hair gently. She ran her tongue over two false teeth, courtesy of Szayel Aporro Grantz, and thought back on it all.

_'How funny, the way it turned out. I never would've expected that my days would leave me here.' _She thought to herself, offhandedly tossing a glance over the luxurious furnishings of her room. Their room. Silken sheets of onyx coloring, such a luxury in the white castle of Las Noches, and only the best of the best for the Queen. That's what Aizen insisted that she was, anyway. Ichimin could never get the feel of royalty, never could really accept it. Just seemed so alien, to the woman who woke in Rukongai a starving little rat, that she should end up three hundred years later in the lap of luxury. Well, the lap of a God, technically. She looked down on his sleeping face, feeling her heart grow warm again at the sight. Aizen looked so calm at these moments, and she loved to see it and relished the thought that she was the only one to see him like this. It made her smile, as she had begun to more often over the time since giving in to Aizen completely. He wasn't the same as in Soul Society, couldn't afford to go back just because of her whims, but she had grown to appreciate the smoother, more tantalizing man he had revealed himself to be. He wasn't the teddy bear Captain of Seireitei anymore; the man was a sleek and sexy creature when he decided to be, and beyond seductive when he was in the mood to mess around with her head a bit.

She felt him move from her chest to lay flat on his back, and Ichimin rolled over to lay against him and listen to his heartbeat. She was happy with how it was, even if she went through hell to get to the point of being happy. She happened to be tired though, mostly from Aizen's earlier decision to walk down and get her when she was finished getting her injuries treated and new teeth put in, then walk with her down the hallway back to wherever. This ended with Ichimin up against the wall and her legs around Aizen's waist, kissing him passionately. Then there was that odd and awkward moment when Ulquiorra walked around the corner to investigate the odd noises, stared blankly at them for a moment as they stopped and stared back, blinked, then silently turned around and walked off. Quickly. It was then that Ichimin and Aizen looked at each other and decided that maybe the hallway wasn't the best place for that certain sort of activity, seeing as Nnoitra and Grimmjow might come upon them and then start cheering for one of the two. Or they might even ask if they could join in. Hell, Gin might show up and ask if he could join in because it looked like fun.

Back to the room, wild sex, and there she was, laying in bed with Aizen again. Ichimin closed her eyes, deciding to get some sleep before Aizen started her on whatever he decided to do with her.

* * *

That next morning, Ichimin woke up to an empty bed, and Ichimaru staring at her from Aizen's half of the bed. Needless to say, she swore loudly and practically fell out of bed, staring at him incredulously.

"What the FUCK are you doing in here??" Ichimin glared at him while dragging the covers up to cover herself, and Gin laughed while sitting up. "Ah, ya Sosuke-sama's sent me t' get ya when you get up, take you 'round to the throne room." He drawled, and Ichimin froze at what he said. Noticing, Gin smiled a bit more maliciously and stared straight through her.

"Aw, don't think I can't hear through the walls. That's what you call him when he's fucking your brains out, isn't it?" He smirked at her as she tched, turning her back to him and searching for her clothes. A new set was...across the room. And her old ones were gone. Fuck. Ichimin growled under her breath, staring back at him disdainfully. "Yeah, maybe it is. Anyway, I really don't give a flying fuck if you're listening to us screw, so don't think I care." She snapped, before dropping the covers and walking across the room with him still watching her stroll around stark naked.

"Ya think 'yer Sosuke-sama would want ya walkin' around naked in front of other men?" Ichimaru teased, and Ichimin scoffed as she scooped up her clothes, turning to face him without so much as a second thought to him seeing her naked.

"If he sent you in here while knowing I was nude in the first place, I fail to see how he wouldn't know that you'd see something." Ichimin sighed at him, already walking past him unbothered with the possibility of his eyes roaming; not like you could tell in the first place. "Not like you haven't seen me naked before." She added in, heading in the bathroom and closing the door. Gin laughed a bit, still speaking to her through the door as he heard the shower turn on.

"How we met, wasn't it?" Ichimaru called to her, and heard silence as his answer. She always went silent when he started talking about that part of her past; she never spoke of it, never wanted to. He loved to bring it up. Loved watching her try to change the subject, try to divert him from dredging up everything that she wanted to forget about. As he spoke of it again, Gin's tone lost the brogue it normally held and went silky smooth. "That's right, we met in...well, it was when I was a Lieutenant Captain in Seireitei, wasn't it? Yes, I believe it was." He mused, now hearing Ichimin moving around in the bathroom and slamming things here and there. Good, just as sore a topic as it always was.

"Yep, I had a bit of free time on my hands and wandered into the Seventy-Ninth district for a bit of entertainment. Got distracted, bored, wandered into a certain sort of establishment that you know the inside of real well." Ichimaru went on, hearing the slamming get considerably louder with every word. "Waltzed into a dirty whorehouse, full of filthy whores practically begging at my feet to pick 'em. Got the grade-A treatment from almost every one of 'em, except one mouthy bitch that was wearing a real tight low-cut red kimono showin' off her tits. Real short little number too, cut off at the thighs." Gin mused, recalling the memory of seeing a dirty blond woman dressed like a slut glaring straight through him, absolute loathing in her dull green eyes. The woman in the bathroom was still slamming things around, though now much less considerably since she was probably in the shower by now and didn't have a lot of things to slam and throw around.

"I remember how she had length-waist hair, nice an' silky. Dirty blond, instead of that fake dye shit the other whores had. Tan skin, nice and smooth. Legs for _miles_. Ah yes, let's not forget how she had bright, pouty ruby red lips and green eyes, sharp as any Zanpakuto blade. An' she looked like she wanted to _kill _me." Gin thought aloud, recalling the whore in the back of the dirty room that didn't want anything to do with him. Ichimin was still silent, probably pissed beyond belief. Good, because this was fun as hell to him. "Yeah, she didn't want me anywhere near her, I could see it in her eyes. And I remember that the mistress of the whorehouse kept going on about every one of those dirty sluts, except for that one. And I kept my eyes on her, even though I knew she prolly couldn't tell where I was looking. She was in lineup with all the others, crossed her arms under her tits and pushed 'em up without meaning to, made 'em bounce a bit." Ichimaru continued, hearing the shower tap slammed off and things thrown around again. Ah, the memories.

* * *

_She was off in the corner of the lineup, crossed her arms and glared right at the shinigami staring each woman through and through. Sometimes, Ichimin really wondered if this was all she'd ever amount to: a low-class prostitute in a dirty, cheap as hell whorehouse. Well, it put food in her stomach and the taste of dick in her mouth, and she would deal with the second if she could have the first. But above anything else, she hated having shinigami hands on her. Always, always hated the 'guardians' of Soul Society, the ones she saw waltz through the door and demand what they wanted without the slightest thought of what they would be taking from someone else. Useless bastards, the proud and mighty shinigami that the other girls in the brothel always tried to hook up with on a more permanent basis. Ichimin never wanted a thing to do with them when they showed up, and most of the time, none ever wanted her for that look of hatred in her eyes when so many other women were drooling at their feet and all-too-willing to do anything they wanted. Ichimin hated them, hated them so much she could taste the bile whenever this eerie one's eyes would linger on her. She could feel it, hated the sensation of him staring through her._

_'Don't you pick me, there's so many other women here that would just die to ride your-' She thought to herself, before the shinigami spoke. "Well, I think I'll have that one back there." He pointed right at her, and Ichimin didn't hold back in her outrage. "Hell no, I'd rather die!" She shouted, before catching a slap across the face from the bitchy old mistress that owned this fucking dump. "Shut up, you little bitch! This is a shinigami; he's a very important person here, and he's even a Liuetenant Captain! You should be thrilled, though with your tastes, I shouldn't expect any less than ungratefulness." The older woman hissed, lines in her face carved from years of coralling her stable of sluts here and there. Ichimin recovered from the slap as if it had never happened, glaring up at the older woman with fire in her eyes that only served to piss the owner off more. "Don't you dare look at me like that-" The older woman snarled, preparing to hit her again. A thin, pale hand with long spidery fingers caught her wrist, and Ichimaru leaned over the mistress's shoulder with an eerie smile._

_"I want her with as little damage as possible. Well, any damage that I don't inflict myself, anyway. She's a bit mouthy, but it's more...fun that way." He finished, as the mistress pulled back and he let her wrist go only to grab a handful of the disobedient woman's hair, yanking it back so that she was looking right up at him with gritted teeth. "It looks like I'm going to have to punish you, because talking back to the woman that sells temporary ownership of you is just a big no-no." Gin crooned, feeling the woman stiffen under his grip. Looking up to the owner, he shook Ichimin a bit to emphasize. "How much for anything I want?" He queried, and the woman blew out a bit of smoke from her cigarette. "Fifty." She told him, and Gin frowned a moment, putting the owner on high alert for the possibility of accidentally chasing him off. "Well, that's all? How much for if I accidentally kill her?" He asked, and the mistress sighed in relief a bit. "Oh, only another fifty or so. She's a good whore, but she's just too spirited for her own damn good. Break her good for me, would you sir?" She requested, gesturing to the nicest room in the dirty little building for him to use. Gin smiled even more unnerving than normal, seeing the other woman shrink from it while the woman he had his grip on growled under her breath._

_"Oh, don't worry. I will." Ichimaru told her cheerfully, letting go of Ichimin's hair to instead grab the back of her slutty little kimono, dragging her along to the back room. He opened the door, shoved her in and stepped in himself, locking it behind him. It was a dingy little room, a futon in the middle of the room and not much else. His little toy staggered to the opposite room, glaring straight through him with a fiery hatred that really was interesting._

_"Well, you don't look happy at all. Mind telling me why?" Gin crooned, and the woman glared even harder. "I fucking hate you shinigami. You lot are worthless bastards, parading around Rukongai with your titles and your prestige, while we poor little shits swim around in this shithole and try not to get our fucking throats slit for change every night." She snapped, seeing him smile at her from across the room. God he was creepy, and that little question about how much it would cost if he 'accidentally' killed her didn't calm her nerves any more than the fact that he paid for anything at all. Most of the clientele couldn't afford even that much, so she just stuck to basic things like blowjobs and vanilla sex. But this was Mr. Deep-fucking-pockets shinigami, so Ichimin had nothing to expect or brace herself for._

_"You know, that's not really too far off." The Lieutenant Captain mused, leaning against the door and keeping his stare even. The whore on the opposite wall looked rather confused. "Well, I should explain a bit. A good deal of shinigami are in fact, worthless drunks that can't do a thing right other than pick fights and fuck sluts in Rukongai brothels. Sluts like you." Gin added in that last bit to see her snarl, but remain silent in the knowledge that it was true. "Then, there's a few that aren't useless. Those are the ones that do their jobs, and then make time to come down to Rukongai brothels and find pretty whores to screw. Pretty whores like you."_

_"Let's just...why the hell are you even here, shinigami? You've got the money to have women much classier than me." Ichimin spoke quietly, opening her eyes again to look up at him. Only to find that he wasn't across the room anymore, he was right in her face. She yelped as he gripped her around the throat, pinning her against the wall. Her attempts to push him off were nullified when Gin caught both her wrists easily and pinned them to the wall, leaving her without a way to escape. Gin leaned right in her face, and she shivered at feeling his breath on her skin._

_"I'll tell you why, pretty whore. It's because you've got reiatsu, don't you?" He queried, and she froze with a look of horror in her eyes. Gin smirked even wider, offhandedly brushing his cheek along her throat. "Yes, don't think I can't feel it. And you've got enough to be a shinigami. You probably already know that, though." He mused, and she shook her head. "I'm not...I won't be a shinigami! I won't be a dog to the system that ignores the poor and tramples the weak!" Ichimin spat, glaring up at his slitted eyes. In a quick twist of his wrist, Gin's knuckles were pressed against her windpipe and he had her lower jaw in his grip, lightly laying his thumb on her bottom lip._

_"Then why don't you join up and show all the other useless bastards exactly how a real shinigami should act like? It really couldn't hurt, and at the most, you'd have a paycheck to buy food with and...well, at worst, you'd be eaten alive by a hollow and never have to suck another stranger's dick again. I really don't see how it could be any worse than selling yourself at a whorehouse." Gin offered, noticing how she seemed to be choking from the pressure of his knuckles in her windpipe. He moved his hand back, cradling her jaw in his hand and watching her close her eyes and think on it._

_"...Maybe. That's all you came for, was to pitch me a reason to join the cause? Let me go then, and get the fuck outta here." Ichimin sighed, attempting to step around him. Instantly his grip tightened and Gin pressed her further against the wall, laying his forehead against hers and relishing the look of terror in her eyes as he let her see the thinnest slit of blue._

_"Nuh-uh-uh, beautiful whore. You remember what I came for, and it wasn't just to tell you about the cause. I'll be getting what I paid for, dear." Gin crooned quite dangerously, feeling her dig her nails into his hands when he moved a knee to press up between her legs._

_"I do have one little question, though, before I have my fun." Ichimaru mused, and the woman in his grip glared harder while steeling herself for whatever this sick psychopath would want to do with her. "And what is that?" She sighed in a tone near a low hiss, and Ichimin felt Gin trail his fingers down her throat and along her collarbone, brushing quite gently and almost appreciating of her curves and her soft skin._

_"You're such a pretty little thing. Why do you do this to yourself?" Gin queried, now trailing his fingers downwards and across the exposed area of her bust. Not like his Rangiku, not even close. But they were still pretty nice. What he didn't expect to hear was her laughing gently, almost regretfully._

_"Shinigami, there ain't no rest for the wicked." She told him, before he leaned forward and nipped hard at her neck. Her nails dug in further, and she could feel him smirking dangerously against her flesh._

_"No, there sure ain't." Gin mused, letting go of her wrists and instead grabbing a handful of her hair, shoving her down to the floor. Ichimin knew just from the expression that this silver-haired shinigami was giving her, this horribly cruel smile, that she wasn't going to enjoy what he had in mind. Not one little bit._

_"Now, let's see how tall you are on your knees, pretty whore."_

* * *

"Yup, we had some fun that night, didn't we?"

Back to the cold white room in Las Noches, as Gin leaned back on the bed in disarray while sunk in nostalgia. The door slammed open and Ichimin rocketed out, marching past him with that same look about her as she had worn those centuries ago. She was pissed, she was dangerous, she was _magnificent_. As she passed him he reached out and caught her wrist, jerking her back against him and locking an arm around her waist.

"Yes, what did we do that night? I remember so little it seems. My memory must be failing me." Gin crooned in her ear, and Ichimin glared ahead while knowing that he was much more powerful than her, and she wouldn't be able to fight him off. She attempted to get up and he wouldn't let her get off his lap, only pulled her back tighter against himself.

"Leaving? _I asked you a question_."

His tone was absolutely dangerous, and Ichimin relaxed in her attempts to get free at the moment. He wasn't letting her go without hearing her say it herself. Ichimin took a deep breath, before recalling the events.

"I bled." She spoke lowly, and felt him lay his chin on her shoulder. "You did. I got a little wound up, and Shinso came out to play too. Your soft skin cut like butter." Gin spoke in a near whisper against her skin, and Ichimin tightened up visibly as he traced the long scar from her shoulder and across her chest. The same one he'd made sure to slice open again not too long ago. "Don't try and leave it at that. You made me blow the blade of your Zanpakuto like it was a dick. Cut my mouth to shreds." She went on, her voice a low hiss. Gin chuckled, running his fingertips along the length of her arm.

"How could I forget? You were ravishing on your knees, with tears in your eyes and blood on your lips. And that wasn't the only thing you blew that night, though I have to say that you really do know how to move your tongue. Did you show Aizen? I'm really sure he'd enjoy it as much as I did."

Ichimin felt him run his fingers along the inside of her palm and along her fingers, when she dug her nails in his hand just like she had back then.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." She answered him, and felt him pull his hand free of hers and splay it over her stomach.

"Tell me...Ichimin..." Gin began, tracing a small circle around her navel.

_"Did Grimmjow enjoy it?"_

Time stood still, and Ichimin flinched at the mention. Looking back over her shoulder, she stared in pure, unadulterated shock right into his face. He was smirking horribly now, looking absolutely victorious. When Ichimin just gaped at him, in utter confusion, Gin couldn't help but laugh at her absolutely priceless expression.

"Well, my dear, where do you think I spend my time? I spend it in our lovely camera room. And I see a lot of things that Aizen never knows about, because he trusts me to tell him if anything fishy is going on behind the scenes. And, my dear, this happens to be something I kept to myself for your sake. Because I'm such a nice guy and all." Gin told her with his normal, omniescent smile. Ichimin didn't have to speak, as he went on to elaborate for her.

"Don't worry, my dear Ichimin-chan. I won't tell on you. That would just be so cruel, after you just yesterday patched things up with your precious Sosuke-sama and all. But I'm in a lot of danger for _not_ telling him, too. You can imagine, I hope." He explained, and Ichimin felt an icy cold pit in her stomach at what he was about to say. "You're not..." She began, before feeling him nip at her neck hard and shivering as she had back in the 'good old' days.

"Why don't we orchestrate a trade, then? I won't tattle on you, and you, my dear, will do what I say, when I say it and without question. I won't be asking anything too difficult of you, just a bit of companionship now and then. And don't worry, because if Aizen finds out, I go down with you...so it won't be as if I'm going to have you do anything that would get your pretty little head chopped off." Gin offered as he moved his arms from her waist to wrap right under her breasts, pushing them up a bit. Ichimin didn't have any idea what to do. Either she agrees and plays slave to Ichimaru behind Aizen's back, or Gin runs off to tell on her and Aizen kills her.

"...I...f...fine. You win...Ichimaru." Ichimin finally spoke, ignoring the tears of frustration already rolling down her face. Instantly did Gin take her chin in his hands roughly and jerked her head to the side, so that she would see his open eyes and the absolutely sadistic smile on his lips.

"Gin-sama. Call me Gin-sama, and don't say it with even a little bit of contempt." He ordered her, and Ichimin closed her eyes.

"Yes...Gin...sama." She spoke between her teeth, before feeling him run his thumb over her cheek to brush away the tears. "Well, don't cry. It makes that pretty face of yours look so sad, and I really do hate it when women cry. A weakness developed from living with my Rangiku, I suppose." He spoke with something in his tone that almost sounded caring, before Gin shoved Ichimin off the bed and jerked her around, pushing her to her knees in front of him.

"Let's see if you got any taller, pretty whore."


	28. Comatose

Things went on as normal within Las Noches. Ichimin remained at Aizen's side whenever he wished her there, played perfect, remained calm. And when Aizen wasn't there to protect her, she was usually at Ichimaru's mercy as to what he'd like to do. Worst of all, Aizen trusted Gin as his good friend and second-in-command, and so he trusted Ichimaru with keeping track of Ichimin when he himself couldn't make the time to watch over her.

But right now, Ichimin was laying with Aizen on his long white couch, her head on his chest and dozing slightly on him with one of his arms draped over her back, loosely. Things had been too calm for comfort lately, as Aizen was preparing to launch his forces upon Soul Society's in the Winter War. He didn't have the slightest doubt in the strength of his army, and now that Ichimin was completely trapped in his web, she wouldn't offer the slightest trouble in what he wanted to do to her former allies. She just didn't care anymore, and that was very beneficial to him. Aizen was nearly asleep himself as he laid with Ichimin, brushing his fingers through her hair gently. He was calm, as always, but now it was a more peaceful, serene sort of calm instead of the calm before a battle.

Ichimin was so calm with him. When she was with Aizen, she didn't have to worry about the dangers of Las Noches, or Ichimaru, or anything at all. She didn't really notice as he moved a bit under her, and his warmth left as another weight showed up by her feet. Some mumbling, footsteps, and after they faded away, she felt a cool hand run up under the back of her shirt and fingertips tracing her spine. Aizen's hands were warm...and these were very cold. She didn't like how they felt in the least, and attempted to roll out of their touch. Another weight laid beside her, and Ichimin kept her eyes closed as she laid her head on its chest and attempted to go back to sleep. The sound of breathing calmed her down, and Ichimin was only slightly put-off by the fact that this person didn't have Aizen's particular smell of light cologne. In fact, this person didn't have a smell at all. That was disquieting, but not as much as when their cold hands traced invisible shapes on her stomach, gently. Ichimin then opened her eyes, to see the smiling face of Gin Ichimaru right in hers. She nearly screamed, but it was muffled when Gin laid a hand over her mouth.

"There there, pretty whore. Just your old friend Gin here, nobody that'd hurt you." He told her gently, though it held a cold tone in it. Ichimin bit his hand hard, only to have him press the heel of his palm into her throat and pin her down on the couch, while he went on looking distastefully at the teeth marks on his hand.

"That was quite mean, Ichimin-chan. All I wanted to do was say hello, and you go and bite me." Gin scolded, though he sounded less angry than cruelly amused. She couldn't speak very well, only managed a gagged "What are you doing here" before Gin answered her distractedly.

"Oh, me? Well, I was just spending time here like your Sosuke-sama asked me, watching over you while he attended to other matters. I'm so glad that he trusts me so much, makes it so much easier for us, doesn't it?" He half-laughed at the end, and Ichimin glared harder. He let up pressure on her windpipe, tracing fingers down from her throat to her collarbone again.

"He'll be coming back, won't he?" She snapped, only to feel Gin dig his nails into her skin and drag them along, painfully but not enough to draw blood. "Oh yes, he'll be back very soon. I just thought it'd be fun to gamble a bit on how long we have until he does, hm?" Gin spoke, still on his knees above her as he leaned down and nipped at her neck, exactly where he knew that she liked. Ichimin sighed between her teeth, very slowly and as if she were trying to keep from groaning.

Immediately, he rolled away and into position as if he'd been sitting the entire time, as Aizen turned the corner and walked across the room again, sitting next to Ichimin as she sat up. She laid her head on his chest, gently, as he spoke. "Ichimin, when did you wake?" Aizen queried, and Ichimin shrugged a bit. "Oh, with the moving around and things. I needed to wake up anyway." She murmured, before noticing that Gin had made himself scarce again. Shunpo, probably. Gently, Aizen sprawled out on the couch with her again, both laying on their backs and Aizen's arm around Ichimin's shoulders, tracing her jawline with his thumb gently.

"Relax, Ichimin. All we have to do now is wait; you have all the time until winter to sleep."

His voice relaxed her, always so calm and smooth. Even if she had to deal with Ichimaru getting frisky now and then, she was happy here in Las Noches. Aizen was good to her, as long as she was obedient. And really, after enough time getting punished for being disobedient, you really give up on being troublesome. Ichimin let her fingers lay softly on his neck, feeling his pulse beneath her fingertips.

"All the time until winter?" She asked him gently, her voice a soft lull. "But if I sleep that long...would I ever wake up again?" Her mind was clouding with exhaustion and the serenity all around them, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep. Aizen laughed gently, a low chuckle as he traced her lips with his finger. "You will wake again, Ichimin. And I will be waiting for you when you do."

Ichimin murmured an admonition of love, before she drifted off to an unnaturally thick and smothering sleep. Aizen kissed the crown of her head gently, before pulling away from her and standing. He watched Gin slink back into the room to sit on the arm of the chair lazily.

"Kyoka Suigetsu, righ'?" Gin queried, and Aizen gave a nod. "My plans are coming into an area where the slightest influence could cause them to fail. A fit by Ichimin is not something I need right now, lest she alter my decisions through more actions as you've described to me. I do not need to lose my temper because of her whorish actions towards my Espada, and then make a mistake that could cost us the war."

Gin grinned a bit wider, though it wasn't purely malicious. His voice betrayed him, sounding just a little pitying of Ichimin's situation. "She never knew I told ya 'bout that, an' she never knew that you were the one that gave me go-ahead to 'ave some fun. Never mistrusted ya for even a second."

Aizen smiled just as warmly as he had back in Seireitei as he brushed Ichimin's hair out of her face, gently. "Of course she didn't. She loves me. Love can make one stupid, can leave one blind, deaf, and dumb. I've had great fun taking her free will from her without Ichimin even realizing, and now I know that she would die for me if given the decision. She has made a very good pawn, if not a little more trusting than even Momo had been. Momo merely adored me. Ichimin loved me, and that made her even stupider and easier to manipulate than Momo ever was."

Gin's smile fragmented, now looking a bit regretful. Ichimin reminded him of his Rangiku, somewhat. And from childhood, he'd always hated seeing women misused and mistreated, something he'd gained from living with Matsumoto. Ichimin was far too deep in Aizen's web to ever get out, he knew, and as long as Aizen was fond of her, she'd just be a pawn of his that he was very possibly in love with. Then again, this was Aizen he was talking about. If the man was even capable of love at all, it was going to be a controlling, possessive sort.

"How long ya keepin' her in that?"

Aizen smiled at the question, now turning Ichimin's chin gently so he could better see her sleeping face. He laid his palm flat on her cheek, as she didn't stir in the least.

"At the very least, a year or two. I'll bring her out of it when I know that her tantrums won't interfere with anything important, when I have time for them." Aizen kissed Ichimin's lips gently, before standing. "Szayel Aporro will have her on a machine to keep her alive; it will work out fantastically. In the meantime, Ichimin will remain in a Kanzen Saimin-induced coma keeping her in a deep, dreamless slumber for years to come. I'm being very generous in this; I could just lock her up, but she would most likely go insane. Also...well, that would just be _cruel_." He smiled in a slightly cruel sort of way, though Aizen was sure that he was doing the kindest thing possible. Gin stood as Aizen did, walking with him to the door.

"So, ya think she'll ever forgive ya 'fer this?" He queried, glancing back to Ichimin. Aizen only chuckled, not bothering to look back as Szayel's fraccion began moving her to the Espada's lab.

"She'll always forgive me, Gin. Love finds a way."

* * *

**((Well guys, it's been great fun with this story. I'm going to end it here. But don't worry; I can't just drop it. I'll have a sequel for you guys, don't worry. Thanks for reading, and be looking for part two.))**


	29. The Sequels, an Author's Note

**((Sorry to make one whole chapter a final author's note, but there's something I thought I should add:**

**This story turned into a sort of trilogy, as corny as that sounds; the other two parts are already out. After this, Faux Smiles, comes Bluebird's Illusion, which is already out and finished. After that comes The Coyote Gospel, which is also out and has been finished.**

**I thought I should let anyone who didn't find the other two stories know. Thanks again, you guys.))**


End file.
